


Strawberry Wine

by pbmolecules



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Christmas, College Crush, Destiel - Freeform, Farmer!Bobby, Farmer!dean, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, MVP Bobby, Past love reunited, Romance, Summer Love, Sweet love, Vet student!Sam, business!dean, farming, john is a decent dad, lots of love and sappy moments, re-kindled romance, strawberry wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbmolecules/pseuds/pbmolecules
Summary: Destiel AUTen years ago, on the banks of a river on a well-beaten path, Dean and Cas found love growing wild.  A love so strong and pure that it seemed unimaginable that it could ever falter.  But it dwindled away in the fall.  That summer changed their lives forever, driving both men into altered trajectories.Time and love have a way of winding people back together, crossing paths until they inevitably meet again.How could a love so perfect wither?  How could they possibly put it back together?  Follow this winding tale of summer love and Christmas spirit.
Relationships: Dean/Cas, Destiel
Comments: 88
Kudos: 148





	1. Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays and Merry Christmas! This is my gift to my SPNFamily! I will post a chapter every day over this week to celebrate the holidays. While there are a lot of hot summer moments, there is a dash of Christmas in this tale, so it seemed a nice way to give during the season.
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or Deana Carter’s song, Strawberry Wine, which was the inspiration for this fic :). If you have a minute, listen to that song before reading this :D Merry Christmas my friends!!! <3

Chapter 1: Bittersweet  


  
December 8, 2019  
  
Dean straightened his red tie in the reflective metal of the elevator. He was questioning his choice in tie color this morning. Red was so bright. What if Mr. Adler had a red tie on today? He would look like he was being pushy. He could at least have worn the gray striped one or his blue one. Now either of those seemed like a much better choice than the stark red tie that drew attention.  
  
He let go of the tie as the elevator door opened.  
  
“Morning, Dean,” Hester said in her clipped, professional tone, charcoal gray suit and blue shirt. Subdued colors. Nothing flashy and red.  
  
“Morning, Hester.”  
  
She eyed him swiftly as she turned to stand next to him. It was hard to tell what she was judging him for. His lack of gaining the Moriarty sale last week, his being gay, his tie. His latest haircut. Was there fuzz on his pants? Any of them. All of them.  
  
He felt the familiar tight set of his jaw lock into place. He’d have a headache by noon. He had forgone his mouth guard last night that prevented TMJ, which he was now regretting as a sharp pain stabbed in his mandibular joint.  
  
Shitty music played incessantly, only interrupted by the ding of their arrival to the next floor. The doors opened, Lydia and Rachel stepping inside.  
  
Rachel swept a glance past Dean. “Morning Hester.”  
  
“Morning.”  
  
Lydia grinned at him like she always did. Slightly predatory. He could easily read her expression of ‘You’re hot but not quite upper management enough yet’. “Hi,” she said smoothly.  
  
Dean grinned at her. She was the secretary for communications and sales. She had a bit of a thing for him (and several other men at Adler Agriculture Inc.).  
  
“Hey, Lydia.”  
  
“There’s going to be cake in the break room today. It’s Bela’s birthday. Should be...tasty.”  
  
“Nice,” he grinned.  
  
He made a mental note to avoid the break room. Lydia might have a predatory smile, but Bela truly was a predator. She had devoured several men and women right out of their positions to gain power. She was upper management. She had not ‘climbed the ladder’ so much as ‘chewed the ladder up and spit the wooden splinters like blow darts’.  
  
The doors opened and Lydia stepped out with a subtle wink at him.  
  
The doors closed and the elevator resumed its upward climb.  
  
“Like she needs another piece of cake,” Hester muttered.  
  
“I know. She’s already a size bigger than she was last year,” Rachel sighed.  
  
The elevator dinged at the next floor and Dean got out without a backwards glance because that’s how management behaved. Lydia’s friendliness was only for the upper echelon and Dean wasn’t quite there yet. She would never bother with the rank and filers, ‘the cubes’ management called them. Those that worked in the sea of cubicles that flooded each floor. Then there was the row of offices where level two management worked separately. He had already climbed the ladder out of the cubes and into management. He knew how to play the game and he was winning.  
  
Just look at his office with a door that closed if you wanted proof.  
  
Lydia’s sights were set higher than the row of middle-management offices. She tended to troll the floor above his where offices had their own bathrooms and conference rooms.  
  
Whatever. Dean would get there someday.  
  
Not for Lydia’s sake though. The very thought made him shiver and count himself lucky that she only winked at him occasionally.  
  
But Hester’s snide comment about Lydia bothered him. They smiled politely enough but everyone he knew here would just as soon stab you in the back and talk shit about you. He was sure they were saying something nasty about him right now. That was fine. He had plenty of shit to say about them behind their backs.  
  
He sighed, sitting his green breakfast shake on the desk, took off his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair, and turned his computer on for the day. He put his earpiece in, getting the microphone angled just right.   
  
Another day, another dollar.  
  
He pulled the spreadsheets from last night’s work out of his attaché case, laying them on the desk.  
  
His phone rang before his ass even hit the cushy black chair he had personally chosen.  
  
“David Lassiter! How’s Chicago?” Dean delved in.   
  
His morning was busy. Between phone calls, he handled the incoming email that never stopped. It was 12:45 by the time he was able to stop for lunch, his breakfast shake a distant memory. Marge from seasonal marketing had delivered his salad half an hour ago. He busily prepared it, taking half the onions out and picking off the croutons, eating one, then two before sitting them aside to pour strawberry vinaigrette dressing on it. He tossed his red tie over his shoulder and dove in. He was on his third bite when there was a knock on the door.  
  
Mr. Adler walked in, bright-eyed and eager-grinned. “There he is! Great sales this week, Dean!”  
  
Dean grinned, mopping his mouth with a napkin, hurriedly swallowing a mouthful of salad. “Thank you, sir!”  
  
“Heard about the Moriarty loss.” His smile soured slightly, Dean feeling every bit of it. “You know I don’t like to see those losses, Dean.”  
  
Dean nodded. “Yes, sir. I think Sucracorp beat us out. That counter deal had Roman-stink all over it.”  
  
Zachariah grimaced. “Those bastards.” He opened the door again. “Keep improving, Winchester. I’ve got my eye on you.”  
  
The door closed and Dean slumped into his chair. Keep improving? He was running himself ragged! He ate, slept, and breathed Adler Agriculture Inc! He rubbed his temples, willing the pounding behind his eyes to go away. He straightened up, popping two Tylenol and an extra vitamin C.  
  
  
By 6 pm, Dean was fried. He packed his attaché case and turned his computer off. As he exited the elevator he barely took notice that it was already dusk. His cell phone rang as he headed into the parking garage.  
  
“Hey, Sam. How are you?”  
  
“Good. How was your day?”  
  
“Sixty percent positive productivity. Lost a big one yesterday, so, gotta really up my game.”  
  
Sam huffed. “If you up your game you’re gonna have a friggin’ heart attack.”  
  
“Well, we can’t all be doctors.”  
  
Sam groaned. “I don’t know how I’m gonna ever have a life, Dean. When Amelia and I graduate, we’ll have like $120,000 in student loans to pay off. That’s a house!”  
  
“I know,” Dean said patiently. Sam freaked out about his college debt every other month. Veterinary school was expensive. He had a lot of grants and assistance, but Amelia, also in the vet program, had hardly any. It was going to hit them hard when they graduated.  
  
“Anyway, I was calling to see if you are going to be home for Christmas this year.”  
  
Dean sighed, getting into his car. This was one luxury he never was too busy to miss. His Baby. He took a slower, deeper breath as his body settled into the leather bench seat. “Why are you planning Christmas already?”  
  
“It’s December 8th, Dean. I have one more final this week and I’ll be home on Saturday. I just wanted to know how pissy Dad was gonna be when I got there.”  
Dean started the car. “If he gets to be too much, come stay at my place. And I’ll be there for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Then I gotta get back here.”  
  
“Okay,” Sam said, sounding relieved. “I’ll call you when I get home. Take it easy, would ya?”  
  
Dean backed out of the parking space. “I got an hour and a half of work to do tonight and I haven’t even been ON the treadmill yet today. Or eaten dinner.” It all sounded insurmountable at the moment.  
  
“Jeez. You work too hard, Dean. Go have a burger.”  
  
“Ha! I wish! I’m not 20 anymore, Sam. You wait and see.”  
  
He hung up, merging into Kansas City traffic, which never seemed to die down. It took him thirty-five minutes to get three miles to his apartment building. He parked in the garage and headed up to his apartment, barely noticing anyone or anything around him while he handled several emails.  
  
Home, he tossed his attaché case on the kitchen counter and put take-out leftovers in the microwave. While he stood at the counter to eat dinner, he went through his social media as quick as he could, liking shit he thought was dumb as hell.  
  
Another day, another dollar.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
December 8, 2019  
  
Castiel looked down at his shirt with disappointment. He had just dropped a dollop of ketchup on his white dress shirt. If he would put his book down while he was eating, he might not stain his shirt for once.  
  
Kevin chuckled, tossing a napkin at him from across the break room table.   
  
“Thank you,” Castiel murmured, wiping as gently as possible.  
  
“So, did you end up failing that Brody kid?” Kevin asked, referring to a student they shared and struggled with.  
  
“I did. His ten-page essay on Malaria was eight pages in size 14 font with size 18 font periods.”  
  
“Freshmen.” Kevin shook his head.  
  
Castiel met his eyes in utter disgust. “He spelled Malaria incorrectly.”  
  
Kevin laughed. “Do they think we don’t read their essays? How did that kid even get into college?”  
  
“Football,” they both said, sharing an irritated head shake.  
  
“I’m just glad fall semester is over,” Kevin went on. “Spring semester always goes quicker.”  
  
Castiel frowned. “I disagree. The Fall goes quickly. Spring lasts forever.”  
  
Kevin shrugged. “Going anywhere for Christmas?”  
  
“You know I am not,” Castiel frowned down at his burger. “Who would watch Bert and Ernie?”  
  
Kevin shook his head dismissively. “You devote way too much time to those cats.”  
  
“They’re my babies. Lord knows I’ll never have any real children.”  
  
“Not if you keep eating lunch with me! You have to get out more often. Your choices around here are pretty limited. You could always go back to James Frampton.”  
  
Castiel shook his head. “No.”  
  
“He said, any time. Ever.”  
  
Kevin loved to bring up the Framptons, a couple he had an open relationship with for close to year. It was the wildest thing Kevin had ever heard of, growing up secluded and moving to a small town.  
  
Castiel busied himself with his burger. At least Kevin had refrained from asking questions this time.  
  
“Hey, doc Novak, doc Tran!”  
  
“Dr. Badass,” they both greeted.  
  
Ash sat down next to Castiel, pulling a sandwich, three tacos, a bag of chips, an apple, two Slim Jim’s, a pack of sweet tarts, and a beer out of his lunch bag.  
  
“How do you eat so much?” Kevin asked, eyeing the tacos with no small amount of skepticism.  
  
Ash patted his flat stomach. “One meal a day keeps the flubber away!”  
  
“I don’t think that is how the saying goes,” Castiel frowned.  
  
Ash opened his beer, chugging it, squished the can loudly, belched, threw the can in the trashcan, and said, “Well it should.” He pulled his second beer out and began eating.  
  
No one but Ash could get away with drinking beer in the faculty lounge. It was forbidden and, per usual, the rules didn’t seem to apply to Ash, head of the computer science program.  
  
Castiel did not mind. It was part of his charm.  
  
“How’s the nerd buzz today?” Ash asked, cramming half a taco in his mouth.  
  
“Status quo. You staying around for Christmas?” Kevin asked.  
  
“Negatory. Got business,” Ash nodded, giving them a cryptic squint of his eyes.  
  
They knew better than to ask. The man was an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle, wrapped in a taco, doused in beer. He was a genius that looked like a B list rock star from the 80’s and behaved like a Freshman. He was odd. And fascinating. But mostly, he was just a really nice guy.  
  
Like clockwork, Kevin glanced at his calculator watch. “You’re going to be late, Professor Novak.”  
  
Castiel jumped. He did this at least once a week. “See you this weekend,” he said, grabbing his lunch and bag, heading across campus at a commanding pace.  
  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
  
December 11th, 2019  
  
  
Dean pulled into the garage under his apartment building, parking in his usual place. He turned the radio off, staring at the concrete wall in front of him. It had been a grueling day. Zachariah was all over him about some up-coming potential clients. The life-sucking gray of the cold wall in front of him was not what he saw. He longed for an open road. Driving with no specific destination. Music blaring and even...his eyes followed his dashboard, settling on the seat where Aaron used to sit. Where Max sat. He didn’t truly miss either of those exes. Sam. Sam was a damn good copilot. They had had some great road trips. It was something they did every summer. No plan, no worries, greasy food, shitty motels, and open road.  
  
His phone rang, the warm thoughts vanished and the cold of the night crept in. He answered in his work voice, which was energetic and full of gusto and completely fake at the moment. “Dean Winchester here.”  
  
“Hey, Dean.”  
  
He opened the car door with its familiar squeak. “Hey, Sammy, what’s up?”  
  
“Are you gonna be home soon?”  
  
Sam’s voice was strained and quiet.  
  
“Yeah.” He grabbed his bag, locked the door, heading for the elevator. “I just got home. Why?”  
  
He rounded the corner to the elevators, freezing in his steps. Sam was hunched against the wall opposite the elevators, bag at his feet, phone to his ear, and eyes red from crying.  
  
“Sam!” Dean ended the call, Sam looking up at him. His chin wobbled, his mouth pulling tight to fight off what promised to be some real waterworks. Dean held both arms out, completely confused. “What are you doin’ here?”  
  
Sam looked up, gathering courage, wiped a hand down over his mouth and cleared his throat. “I...I didn’t wanna go to Dad’s. I just...”  
  
Dean knew his brother better than anyone. This had Amelia written all over it.  
  
“Come on.” He swiped his fob, unlocking the elevator. They road up to the tenth floor in silence. Sam stared vacantly at the floor. Dean held all his questions and comments for the sanctuary of his apartment.  
  
The elevator dinged and Sam followed him to his apartment. He unlocked the door, tossing his keys into a dish on the table.  
  
Sam dropped his bag by the couch, flopping onto it. He stretched out, put his head back and closed his eyes. He looked defeated.  
  
Dean went about his usual routine of getting rid of his coat, tie, shoes, belt, and untucking his shirt, all in that precise order. He was in his bedroom by the time he was pulling his shirt out, taking a relieved sigh. He tossed his things and headed back to the living room, watching Sam like he might explode at any moment.  
  
He pulled two beers from the fridge and sat on the couch. Sam was staring at the wall opposite him, which was mostly all windows looking out over Kansas City. Dean was on the eighth floor, but the building went up to the 15th story.  
  
Dean tapped his thigh with the beer. Sam took it, looking miserable. “Amelia and I broke up.”  
  
Bingo.  
  
“Sorry, Sam. What happened?”  
  
Sam’s eyes reddened around the rims as his face shifted to a bitter grimace. “Don came back.”  
  
“Her ex?” Dean asked, shocked. “I thought he was deployed.”  
  
“He was,” Sam said angrily. “Guess he decided to come back after her. She’s been seeing him since October!”  
  
Dean blew a breath out. Damn. He liked Amelia well enough. She made Sam happy. She was pretty. But she was far from perfect. She was judgey, impetuous, and she was bitchy to Sam in general. Come to think of it, he did not really like her that much.  
  
“She waited until we were out of our physiology final. We drove back to the apartment and...” Sam’s hand flipped up, his face showing the shock that riddled him still. “She said she had something to tell me. Dude! I thought she was gonna say she got into another program, or dented the car, or she was pregnant! This just...”  
  
Dean listened, wondering how long this was going to take. He had hoped to squeeze in an hour of work to save himself the trouble on Sunday. He kicked the thought aside, seeing Sam look at him with so much hurt. “She said she’s been meeting him on Tuesday and Thursday nights when she was supposed to be in a class. Dude...she’s been lying to me for months. And...” his eyes threatened tears and his voice dropped brokenly, “she asked me to move out.”  
  
“What a bitch,” Dean said bitterly, shaking his head. “You never suspected?”  
  
Sam stood up, rubbing tears off his cheeks, turning, and pacing around the living room. “No! Never! I’m so stupid! Dean, she wants me out and him in! That bastard is gonna sleep on the sheets I paid for, use the washing machine I fixed, pet MY DOG! I can’t! I can’t go back there! She’s everywhere! ALL my classes, the library, we have the SAME friends! We had plans! We have, had, a good, solid plan!” Tears streaked his face. “She...”  
  
Dean had no idea what to say. He wasn’t any good at this shit.  
  
Sam wiped his face off and took a long drink of beer.  
  
“Where’s all your stuff?” Dean asked, choosing to focus on more practical matters.   
  
“At the apartment,” Sam sighed, back to looking utterly defeated.  
  
“You gotta get your stuff before she throws it out.”  
  
Sam slumped onto the couch. “I guess.”  
  
Dean took another drink of his beer. Looked like he wouldn’t be getting his time in on the treadmill tonight. And he had plans with Rick tomorrow for a quick meeting on the Branson account. He looked at Sam. This was not going to clear up by tomorrow.  
  
“We should go get your stuff in the morning.”  
  
Sam gave him a pained look. “I...”  
  
“Tonight,” Dean distracted him, getting up, “tonight we get drunk and forget about her.”  
  
Sam nodded miserably. Dean went to the cabinet above his coffee pot, pulling down a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He slapped the counter of his kitchen island.  
  
Sam came over, sliding the beer aside.  
  
  
**************************  
  
  
The bottle mostly kicked, Dean poured another glass of whiskey for himself and topped Sam’s off again.  
  
“She’s a bitch,” Dean assured Sam for the tenth time.  
  
“She is!” Sam slurred, taking another drink. “And she’s not keeping the dog! You can keep him, right?”  
  
“No!” Dean said loudly. “And it’s not getting in my baby!”  
  
Sam sighed, turning in his seat at the island to look around his apartment. “This place is...stupid.”  
  
Dean frowned at his brother. “You’re stupid.”  
  
“No,” Sam laughed. “M serious. This place is so...not you! I mean, you got the necessary stuff, couch, chair, TV, bed, whatever, but none of it is YOU. It’s all...stuffy and blah.”  
  
Dean frowned at him, looking at his living room. “This is adulting, Sam. I’m 28. I have a gym membership, drink protein shakes, work, and have high cholesterol.”  
  
Sam turned to him with drunken amusement. “You’re so boring! What the hell happened to you?”  
  
Dean huffed.   
  
“Seriously! You wear suits, you...invest, you watch C-span!”  
  
Dean glared at him.  
  
Sam shook his head. “You were like Lawrence’s very own James Dean. SO cool. Badass. Now you’re...”  
  
“An adult, Sam. High school is long gone.” Dean grimaced as an unwelcome barrage of memories flitted through his mind. Leather jacket and jeans, proms, make-out sessions under the bleachers, summers at Bobby’s, barn chores, and hot summer nights by the river on a blanket. He slammed the rest of his drink bitterly. His life now was just fine. And his punk of a brother would learn what life was really about soon enough. “Time for bed, Sam.”  
  
Sam wilted onto the counter. “I want a fun life. I wanna graduate and be happy, Dean.”  
  
Definitely time for bed.  
  
“I want someone to love me for me.” His shoulders shook and the tears came hard.  
  
Woozy with liquor, Dean wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders, laying his head on top of Sam’s. “Don’t cry, Sammy. You’ll find the right person. Someone who deserves you. And you’ll be happy, Sam.”  
  
Sam cried a little harder, snaking a hand out to grip the sleeve of Dean’s dress shirt. He wouldn’t have been caught dead in a dress shirt like this in high school. Back then he bitched when his jeans were too new.  
  
“She’s a bitch,” Dean slurred. “You deserve the best, Sammy.”  
  
Sam sat up, making Dean sit up as well. “I hate her.”  
  
Dean nodded.  
  
“And I still love her.”  
  
Dean looked down at his empty glass. But what he saw was blue eyes and a smooth chest. Kissing against the wall of the barn as bright sun streamed in, the smell of alfalfa thick in the air.  
  
“Love sucks,” Dean said bitterly. “It’s time for you to focus on graduating and not on feelings.”  
  
Sam gave him a broken look. “Is that what you did?”  
  
Dean winced.  
  
Sam looked around the bare apartment. “I don’t like that plan.”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean said bitterly, getting up, dragging the empty glasses with him, “but it’s a plan. And I sleep just fine at night. My bills are paid and I’m up for promotion.” He rinsed the glasses, sitting them in the sink. “Might not be all barrooms and hot sex, but I’m doing just fine.”  
  
Sam staggered over to the couch, flopping down onto it. He belched and groaned. “I don’t wanna grow up and be boring.”  
  
Dean turned the lights off and covered Sam with a blanket. “Life sucks, Sam. We leave in the morning to get your shit.”  
  
He turned the last light off, stopping in his bedroom doorway. He could hear the muffled sounds of Sam crying. He closed his bedroom door, shutting it out. He thought Sam might be one of the lucky ones. One of those people who had a sweet life and they went about their day with kisses from their passing spouse and pictures on their fridge. But maybe the cold, hard truth of what this world really was, was going to taint his brother too.  
  
He pulled his dress shirt off, pants next, throwing them both in the laundry hamper with a sense of great disappointment. Fuck Sam for picking holes in his life. He was succeeding and that was what life was about, really.  
  
  
  
*********************************************  
  
  
  
December 12th, 2019  
  
Castiel smiled as Charlie shook her head in disgust. “I will NEVER understand your misplaced faith in Samantha Carter. She hardly even flew! Kara Thrace would destroy her before she even saw her coming.” Charlie sat back; arms crossed over her chest.  
  
Kevin leaned forward; hands splayed in eager explanation. “I know she hardly ever flew! But when she did, she was the best! AND Stargate technology far surpasses Battlestar Galactica’s decrepit equipment that’s always falling apart.” Kevin sat back. “Thrace would be dicking around with her misfiring missiles and Carter would annihilate her.”  
  
Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m saying in a dogfight between Thrace and Carter, Thrace wins, hands-down, every time.”  
  
Kevin sighed, shaking his head. “Aren’t you going to weigh in here, Castiel?”  
  
Castiel swallowed another fry. “You know what I’m going to say.”  
  
“No Star Wars and your absolute obsession with Han Solo!” Charlie snapped. “This is strictly Stargate versus Battlestar.”  
  
Castiel shrugged. “Thrace. She fights dirty. Carter is more of a reactionary attacker. At the first sign of threat, Thrace would attack without remorse. But O’Neill would beat Thrace every time.”  
  
Jo sat another pitcher of beer down on the table. “You guys really are the geekiest people to ever geek.”  
  
“Thank you,” all three of them grinned.  
  
She shook her head in playful dismay as she headed back to the bar.  
  
“I should go home,” Charlie sighed, staring at the beer. “But I hate it there sometimes.”  
  
Castiel gave her an understanding smile. Charlie and Dorothy had broken up a month ago. It had been rocky and long distance at times and Charlie seemed better off for finally ending it. Not that that made it easy.  
  
She poured another glass and refilled Castiel’s.  
  
Kevin covered his, sliding it away. “I’ll drive you both home.”  
  
They nodded, he and Charlie sharing a look of understanding. She was finally ready to vent about the turbulent relationship that had crumbled.  
  
  
After two hours of Charlie pouring her heart out, a lot more beer, and the music dying down in The Roadhouse, Charlie looked up at Castiel. “Have you ever been in love, Cas?”  
  
Castiel bit his lips together. “I would say I have tasted love. It was bitter and temporary. My first was too green on the vine. Like strawberries not ready to be eaten.”  
  
Kevin cleared his throat. “Looks like Castiel has hit his peak. When he gets poetic, it’s time to call it a night.”  
  
Castiel smiled sadly. “The other was based on someone I once was and we grew apart.”  
  
“Ishim,” Charlie nodded, knowing about the guy Cas had dated for two years. A time when he was at what would seem to be his career’s peak. They had met in college and continued to see each other when he worked for a research company, making his shining debut in the field of bees. His work had been published and he had been golden for a brief time in the science world. With his decline came the inevitable self-discovery and dwindle of their relationship. Ishim was focused on glory. Castiel sought a purer life. He went back to his comfort of academia and this town, where he had family, a friend, and felt at home.  
  
“Who was your first love?” Charlie asked, eyes heavy with sleep and alcohol.  
  
Castiel’s walls were down. His inhibitions open. Music played softly. Something country and sad while Jo and Ellen went about cleaning around them.  
  
“Dean Winchester.”  
  
His eyes lifted to Charlie’s. He was only mildly shocked he had said the name out loud. Charlie smiled and Kevin hesitated at closing their tab, looking interested in this secretive topic.  
  
“What a name,” Charlie sighed.  
  
“What a name,” Castiel repeated, smiling down at the table. “I met him over the summer of my Sophomore year. I had an internship to work on a farm. He was my boss’s nephew.”  
  
“Scandalous!” Charlie chuckled, leaning in to hear more.  
  
Castiel nodded. “Yes. He was young. I was young. The whole summer was...” Castiel stewed in a dreamy mist of green eyes, alfalfa fields, long walks, the scent of strawberries, sugar, and alfalfa, the river, the cellar. “We were so young.”  
  
Charlie pouted, giving her friend a sad smile. “Sounds sweet.”  
  
“Best time of my life,” Cas mused. The banks of the river by a well beaten path flashing so vividly he could feel the grassy ground beneath his knees. A blush infused his cheeks at the memory.  
  
“Mmmm,” Charlie giggled. “Sweet and dirty!”  
  
Cas grinned harder than he meant to. “Best time of my life,” he reiterated, refusing to divulge more.  
  
Kevin sat quietly, money still in hand. “I think I’m going to ask Channing to marry me.”  
  
Castiel and Charlie perked up. “You should,” Castiel encouraged. “You both seem very happy.”  
  
Kevin nodded.   
  
“Don’t wait,” Castiel went on, seeing the regrets of his past for what they were. “Tell her how you feel and do it. If you wait...it could...drift away like leaves in the Fall.”  
  
Kevin stifled a laugh. “Okay. Time for Professor Novak to go home.” He got up to pay the bill.  
  
Charlie slid her hand across the table, slipping her fingers around his. Castiel closed his hand, watching her.  
  
“It’s time you let yourself love again, Cas.”  
  
He smiled crookedly. Guilt washed over him. It would be a fitting punishment for him to be alone for the rest of time. He deserved it. Not for Ishim. Not for his year-long relationship with James and Portia. But for Dean. For a man that was merely a boy, and a boy that was not quite a man.  
  
Nothing would compare to the love that burned so hot and fast. Brief and too immature. Too green to sustain. And crushing in retrospect. Dean Winchester had been his first love. His only real love. And it had ended like a sputtering flame. Its effects had lasted and would last until Castiel existed no more.  
  
The painful truth of the matter was that he had no one to blame but himself.  



	2. Green on the Vine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s get to the good stuff! We’re going back to 2009 to see how this whole story got started on Uncle Bobby’s farm.

Chapter 2: Green on the Vine  
  
  
June 7, 2009  
  
  
Dean waved goodbye as his parents pulled away in the Impala. His mom was slightly teary-eyed. Sam whacked his shoulder with a grin. “I call top bunk.”  
  
“You can call all you want,” Dean whacked him back. “Top bunk is mine.”  
  
“You’ll both be sleepin’ in the barn if you keep that up,” Bobby said, gruff as usual.  
  
“I love sleeping in the barn!” Sam said excitedly.  
  
Bobby shook his head. “Come on, boys. Let’s get some dinner.”  
  
They went inside, greeted by the smell of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn. Bobby was a good cook. His mom was not. His dad either. They mostly ate out or had pre-packaged food they would cook in a few minutes and eat. His parents worked hard and were always busy. He loved being at Bobby’s. Everything moved slower here. Everything tasted better.  
  
“How was school?” Bobby asked, putting pots on the table so they could sit down together and eat.  
  
“Great!” Sam said, bringing another pot and hot pad. “I’m on the honor roll and I’m going to science camp in July!”  
  
“I heard,” Bobby grinned, sitting down as Dean and Sam sat as well.  
  
“I get to do science experiments and there’s a competition at the end of the week. If I win, camp is paid for next year!”  
  
Dean filled his plate as the pair talked about what Sam’s experiment plans were. He took a huge bite of mashed potatoes and gravy. “Omigod, so good,” he mumbled.  
  
Bobby laughed. “Yer mom not feeding you again?”  
  
Dean grinned. “Why does your potatoes taste so much better?”  
  
“Cuz I use potatoes. And real butter. Yer mom, amazing as she is, uses instant.”  
  
Sam chuckled. They mostly ate hotdogs, canned ravioli, frozen meals, and cereal. The Winchesters could survive for a full week on cereal. But when she had time, on the weekends sometimes, she did make a good casserole.  
  
“How ‘bout you, Dean? Ready for yer senior year?”  
  
“Yes,” Dean sighed. “I’m so sick of school. Are you still good with me coming here next summer and staying on?”  
  
Bobby’s eyes lit up under the brim of his tattered blue and white hat. “Of course. Takes too much to do it without you.”  
  
Dean nodded, reassured.  
  
“You sure you don’t wanna go on to college or trade school though?”  
  
Dean shrugged, taking a big bite of meatloaf. “What for. I got a job right here.”  
  
Bobby tipped his head. “‘Fraid it ain’t a very well-paying job. Farming is a poor man’s lot anymore.”  
  
Dean swallowed, licking his lips. “Yeah, but...it’s what I love.”  
  
Bobby gave him a solemn nod. “Well, I ain’t holdin’ you to take on the burden of this place. If ya git some itch ta do somethin’ else, you do it.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he grinned. “I’m saving money to get a truck. By the end of summer I should have enough.”  
  
Bobby nodded. “I planted the north field this spring. We’ll have twice the work this summer. I hired an intern to work too.”  
  
Dean nodded. Bobby often hired several part timers from in town, local kids looking for seasonal work. That was how he met Benny. “Benny coming back?”  
  
“No. His family moved back to New Orleans last year. I got a full timer college kid. He’s been here for a week. Good kid, works hard, but he don’t know a thing about farming.”  
  
Dean gave his uncle a skeptical look.  
  
“Figured you could keep ‘im on task.”  
  
Dean shoveled another bite of food into his mouth. Great. Now he could babysit Sam AND some uppity college kid.  
  
“He staying here?” Dean asked.  
  
“No. His uncle lives in town. He’s a batty old hermit that runs the library. Marv. Bookish must run in the family. Cas, his nephew always has a book in his hand as well.”  
  
Great. Another nerd. Dean shook his head.   
  
“He does have a car,” Bobby went on. “Maybe you can help him get out a little, so he doesn’t spend his entire summer behind a book and in my fields.”  
  
He had a car? Okay, there was some potential for some fun here. “Yeah, sure.”  
  
“His uncle runs the library?” Sam asked. “Is it the guy with the sweater that knows everything about everything?”  
  
“That would be his uncle Marv,” Bobby nodded, looking annoyed.  
  
“Ugh. I hope he’s not like him. He’s always going on about stuff.”  
  
“You know you’re just as nerdy for even knowing the guy that runs the library. This isn’t even your hometown,” Dean said, annoyed.  
  
Sam shrugged. “Maybe the guy can take me to the library before I leave. I wanna look up -”  
  
“How are we related?” Dean snapped. “You’re 14, Sam. Go play in the river!”  
  
“Shut up, Dean, some of us want to be doctors!” Sam snapped back.  
  
“Alright!” Bobby said, louder than the pair of them. “You two gonna bicker like an old married couple all summer?”  
  
“No,” they both answered.   
  
“Thank you.” Bobby went on eating. “Dean, you can take dishes this week.”  
  
Dean stifled a sigh. His first chore. Summer had officially begun.  
  
  
**********************************************  
  
  
June 8, 2009  
  
Dean dug a soda out of the refrigerator. He needed caffeine. Mornings on the farm came awfully early.  
  
“Guess you don’t drink coffee yet, do ya?” Bobby grinned, pouring a thermos for himself.  
  
“No,” he said, letting all the disgust he felt toward the gross, bitter liquid infuse his simple answer. “That shit is nasty.” He took a deep breath. “I do like the smell.”  
  
Bobby chuckled.  
  
They both looked toward the front door when it opened.  
  
Dean took a step back as a guy with dark brown hair and blue eyes came through the living room and into the kitchen.  
  
“Good morning, Mr. Singer.”  
  
“Morning, Mr. Novak,” Bobby parroted.  
  
The guy grinned toward the floor, “Bobby,” he corrected.  
  
“Cas, this is my nephew I was tellin’ ya about. Dean, this is Cas.”  
  
“Hey,” Dean waved, grinning at him.  
  
“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, meeting his eyes for the first time.  
  
He was striking. Dean swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous about his AC/DC t-shirt and shitty shoes. He licked his lips, taking in the guy’s new boots, lightly scuffed in only one small spot, crisp jeans, button-up blue shirt that made his blue eyes so vivid it made Dean want to tip forward and fall inside.  
  
He blinked rapidly.  
  
“Hello, Sam,” Cas was saying, the eyes tearing away from his to look at Sam.  
  
“You’re in college? Where do you go?” Sam was asking.  
  
Dean wanted to stuff Sam in a closet. Bobby too.  
  
He fought to not gasp as Cas turned, his blue eyes sweeping over him again. The guy probably thought he was weird as hell as he quickly averted his eyes and turned back to the fridge, rummaging again. Anything to not look like an idiot in front of the guy.  
  
“I go to Iowa State. I am majoring in biology with a minor in entomology. They have a very good entomology program. My real goal is to focus in apiology.”  
  
Sam gave him a wide-eyed look. “Bees?”  
  
“Yes, bees,” Cas grinned.  
  
“I love science. I’m thinking about becoming a doctor,” Sam went on.  
  
Cas nodded, an eye brow raising with that look people always gave Sam when they were impressed by him.  
  
Damn. He talked like a college kid. And he looked like money with his crisp jeans, boots, and button-up. The whole situation made Dean swallow uncomfortably.  
  
Great. He should have known the ‘college kid’ would be hot. Bobby had made him sound like a nerd, but he was too good looking to just be a nerd.  
  
“Good luck with that, Sam. My brother is a doctor. If you ever need job shadowing, just let me know.”  
  
“Wow. Really?” Sam said, face lighting up in true excitement.  
  
Cas grinned.  
  
“Alright. Enough gabbin’. We got a field to harvest this morning,” Bobby cut in, patting Cas on the shoulder as he walked through them.  
  
Dean closed the fridge, following Bobby as Cas helped himself to a cup of coffee.  
  
  
****************************************  
  
  
Castiel listened carefully as Bobby explained what to do. Like everything since he had stepped foot onto Mr. Singer’s farm, he felt entirely out of his element.  
  
He watched with envy as Dean climbed one of the large tractors.  
  
“Just ride alongside. Dean can tell ya what to do,” Bobby said, heading for another large piece of equipment with Sam.  
  
The huge engine started with a rumble. Castiel approached it warily, wishing he had noticed exactly how the boy had climbed aboard. He had made it look so easy. He was afraid he would lose a foot, seeing the great blades start to turn on the front of what he could best describe as a giant lawn mower. He grabbed a bar, stepping onto the edge of the decking, then up to the seat, nearly slipping off before getting into the cab.  
  
Dean watched him patiently, a smile toying across his mouth. Castiel sat on the seat and pulled the little door closed, which did little to dull the noise.  
  
“You in?” Dean yelled.  
  
Castiel glanced around himself. “I am.”  
  
Dean nodded once and set his sights on the lane ahead, pulling a lever. Castiel tipped forward to see what the lever had done.  
  
“You gotta disengage the blade when you’re driving on the road,” Dean said loudly.  
  
Castiel noted how the blades were no longer turning and the entire apparatus had lifted. He sat back as Dean moved, steering the lumbering beast with ease. He turned, hearing the other machine roar to life as they drove away. Sam was climbing aboard with Bobby.  
  
They drove down one of the lanes until Dean turned into a field, the tractor tipping with the pitch of the graded hill surrounding the field of alfalfa. He scrambled, latching onto the seat and the door, his heart thudding in his chest. The tractor crested the field and leveled. Dean turned to him with a grin.  
  
“I won’t let you fall out.”  
  
Castiel tried to smile as he let go of the death-grip he had, trying to look half as comfortable as the farmer’s nephew.  
  
Dean watched with a practiced eye, steering the large machine, pulling a lever to engage the blade and begin the daunting task of harvesting the alfalfa.  
  
The alfalfa swayed gently in a thigh-high sea of green with small, purple flowers. He watched with amazement as the blades began eating up the plants like a mower, leaving a trail of ankle-high green stalks behind them.  
  
“Keep an eye out for mounds!” Dean shouted.  
  
“Mounds?” Castiel asked.  
  
“Yeah, gopher mounds.” Dean looked at him, Cas liking how handsome he was. Rugged and boyish. Still a teenager, he was sure, but so self-assured with his task.  
  
Castiel, realizing he was staring, looked back to the field. Mounds. He assumed that meant mounds of dirt.  
  
They rode for quite some time before Dean hit a bump, jarring them both harshly.   
  
“Damn,” Dean swore, half standing to look below them.  
  
He slowed to a stop. “Check the front,” Dean yelled.  
  
Castiel nodded. He climbed down, sliding off the bottom of the deck and stumbled but stayed on his feet. He skirted around the front of the tractor, watching the blades. He had no idea what he was looking for. He spotted something odd at the far side of the blades, unsure of what he was seeing. He waved his arms and Dean turned the blades off.  
  
He stared as they slowed to a stop. He went back to the open door of the cab as Dean leaned over the seat to look down at him.  
  
“There’s something wrapped around the end of the rod-thing!”  
  
Dean frowned at him, disappeared, and the engine went quiet. Dean came down the side of the tractor, hopping off the bottom of the deck with ease. He came around the blades to look.  
  
Castiel drew closer, watching carefully.  
  
“Somebody dropped bailing twine in the field.” He reached into his pocket, flipping a knife open. He cut the twine easily, pulling it out of the rigging. By the time he was finished, he was holding two handfuls of twine. Dean turned to him. “If that happens again, just cut it like I did.”  
  
Castiel nodded. “I don’t have a knife.”  
  
Dean pulled the knife from his pocket and handed it to Cas. Castiel took it, surprised at its heft. He nodded, putting it into his pocket. He watched as Dean climbed the tractor with three easy steps. He attempted to do the same, though his unsureness slowed his momentum, making it more clumsy. He vowed to be quicker next time.  
  
  
****************************************  
  
  
Dean felt like he’d been watched all morning long. He had been. But this felt different somehow. Cas was quiet and watchful. Bobby was right, the guy didn’t know shit about farming. But he was trying.  
  
They all headed to Bobby’s kitchen for lunch. Sandwiches piled as high as you pleased. Drinks, soda, veggies, chips, even pie.   
  
“It amazes me how hungry I am while working here,” Castiel said, taking a huge bite of his sandwich.  
  
“Physical work,” Bobby declared. “Eat up. You’ll burn it off after lunch.”  
  
“How are the strawberries coming?” Dean asked.  
  
“Green and plump,” Bobby answered. “We’ll be makin’ wine next month.”  
  
Dean grinned. He loved making strawberry wine. His payment for helping make it was that he could drink it. “You ever had strawberry wine, Cas?”  
  
Cas looked up from his sandwich. “I don’t believe so.”  
  
Dean grinned at him. “You’re gonna love it.”  
  
Castiel held his gaze, a slow, steady smile spreading on his face. “I look forward to it.”  
  
Lunch and the remainder of the day passed quickly. The weeks they harvested were daunting. Row after row of running the tractor. The first cutting was not as bad as the other two would be, when it was hotter.  
  
They worked until sundown, eating a huge dinner of ribs, potato salad, and spinach.  
  
“This spinach is delicious, Bobby,” Castiel said, chewing the greens slowly. Dean wondered if his eyes drifted shut from pure enjoyment or enjoyment and exhaustion.  
  
“The secret is butter,” Bobby remarked.  
  
“You always say that,” Sam laughed.  
  
“It’s true! None of this plastic shit or oil. Just use real butter.”  
  
After dinner, Castiel said he was leaving, waving goodnight as Sam headed upstairs. Bobby sat in the living room to read, and Dean was finishing the dishes.  
  
When the front screen door shut with its familiar thwack, Dean dried his hands on his jeans, heading out the kitchen door and jogging to catch up to him walking to his car.  
  
“Cas!” Dean called, watching him turn to look at him.  
  
“Dean,” Castiel said with some surprise, stopping to wait for him.  
  
“So, I noticed you have a...car.” He grinned at the clunker of a beast. An old Lincoln Continental in gold, of all garish colors.  
  
Cas must have read some of the dislike on Dean’s face because he straightened up a bit with a defensive tilt to his chin. “Yes?”  
  
“I was, uh, wonderin’ if you’d mind takin’ me and Sam inta town later this week. Just ta get out of here, ya know?”  
  
Cas’ eyes narrowed a bit. “Sure.”  
  
“I can drive but I don’t have a car of my own just yet. Hopin’ to get one at the end of summer if I save up enough.”  
  
“That would be fine,” Cas nodded. Their eyes held for a moment and Dean felt a spark of something exciting. Or not...It was more likely just a regular guy thing, right? Dean checked out the way Cas’ jeans hugged him just right, his eyes flicking back to his. There was no way his luck was that good that this hot package was gay.   
  
Cas cleared his throat as he looked down at his keys. “Night, then.”  
  
“Night,” Dean waved, feeling ridiculous for waving of all things. Of course Cas had looked up to catch it, smirking before biting his lip and turning toward his car. Dean shoved his hand in his pocket, stumbling slightly as he stepped back. He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. “Night.”  
  
Cas looked at him again, pausing before getting in the car.   
  
  
  
*******************  
  
  
June 13, 2009  
  
Castiel had been more relaxed this afternoon than he had been since he started this summer job. He had spent the entire morning with Bobby as they changed a part on the combine. Being with Bobby was easy. He followed his directions and listened to all the wisdom the man seemed to have about everything. It was completely different than his Uncle Marv, who tended to lecture about things instead of just educate. He was blissfully thankful for Bobby’s quiet nature after evenings with his uncle, who never seemed to stop talking.  
  
And he was not responsible for Sam’s safety, which made him nervous at times since the kid did things that he himself thought was dangerous, but the others saw as normal. He had almost cleared a counter full of junk mail and books one morning when he turned around and Sam was standing there with a shotgun. His look of utter shock and fear made Sam glance around, looking for danger.  
  
“Sam! Put it down!” Castiel had gasped.  
  
“Put what down?” Sam asked, shifting the gun like it was nothing. His eyes met Castiel’s. “Oh! The gun isn’t loaded. I’m not an idiot.” He rolled his eyes, sitting the shotgun in the corner and pulled a box of bullets off of a cabinet, putting a handful in his pocket.  
  
Dean walked in, looking between the two. Castiel quickly picked up the mail and books he had knocked down.  
  
“What happened?” Dean asked.  
  
“Sam has a gun,” Castiel said nervously.  
  
Dean, looking from his brother to the gun propped in the corner, smirked a grin. His green eyes whipped back to meet Castiel’s. “Don’t worry, Cas, I’ll defend you.” Dean’s eyes met Sam’s but he leaned closer, conspiratorially. “He’s kinda scrawny. I think I could take him.”  
  
Castiel rolled his eyes. He always felt ten steps behind what Sam and Dean seemed born to do. “Children should not have guns.”  
  
Dean’s smile sobered. “He’s 14. He hunts on his own, Cas. He’s been around guns all his life and knows what to do and what not to do.”  
  
Shocked, Castiel stared between the two of them. “He hunts?”  
  
“Oh my God,” Dean sighed, looking at Sam. “Quit scaring the college nerds, Sam.”  
  
Castiel felt bad immediately, but still unsure of the situation. Bobby had come in just then and took Cas with him for the day. He had watched in mesmerized wonder as Dean and Sam left that morning. Sam carried and loaded the shotgun like a cowboy in a movie. And Dean didn’t even take notice. Neither did Bobby, other than a cursory glance every now and then.  
  
Castiel jumped a foot later that afternoon when a gunshot cracked the general hum of the farm. Bobby merely glanced up. “Hope he got that fox.”  
  
Castiel stared at him in shock from the open door of the large barn they were in. “Should we check on them?”  
  
Bobby chuckled. “He’s just scaring it outta here.”  
  
Castiel had half expected Sam to arrive back at the house that afternoon with dead animals. Seeing none, and the gun put away, he had relaxed as Sam told his uncle he had chased the fox away.  
  
Now, as he handed Bobby tools and tried to understand what the man was doing with the giant machine, he realized how different this life was than what he was used to. Though Sam and Dean had gotten more amusement out of him for the day, it had all turned out fine.  
  
As evening set in, they headed back to the house. Sam and Dean were already there, showered and dinner started by Dean. They sat down to eat, passing spaghetti around easily between them until their plates were full.  
  
“So, Cas,” Dean said, still chewing and swallowing. “You got any plans tonight?”  
  
Castiel knew the two were looking for a ride into town. “I do.”  
  
Sam’s shoulders drooped in disappointment and Dean nodded like it was no big deal.  
  
“A stop at the library and then to wherever you want to go,” he grinned, pleased he had the upper hand for once in a conversation. “That is, if it’s okay with Bobby if we do that.”  
  
Bobby nodded. “You kids have fun.”  
  
Dean and Sam exchanged a smile, Dean’s green eyes landing on his next. Castiel did his best to hide the flush of warmth from his cheeks. He should not be blushing about taking the two out tonight.  
  
“Be back by ten,” Bobby added. “And behave yourself,” he said pointedly at Dean.  
  
Dean held his hands up in innocent defense until his uncle looked back down at his plate. Then Dean winked at him, making him grin ridiculously.  
  
  
  
*********************************************  
  
  
  
“This car is awesome!” Sam laughed from the back seat. “I could sleep in here!”  
  
Dean turned to see his brother stretch out along the back seat with a big dumb grin. “Get your seatbelt on,” he warned.  
  
“It’s like a full-size couch back here!” Sam went on.  
  
Cas drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as they headed toward town. “I’ll drop you two off and I’m going to run to my uncle’s and get a quick shower, then I’ll join you.”  
  
He stopped in front of the library and Sam got out. Dean waved to him, not moving from the car. Sam ran inside and Cas stared at him in some confusion. “Are you not going with him?”  
  
“Dude. It’s summer. There’s no way in hell I’m going in a library.”  
  
Cas blinked at him owlishly.  
  
“He’ll be fine,” Dean chuckled.  
  
Looking apprehensive, Cas pulled away and headed another few blocks to a small house in a pretty average-looking neighborhood.  
  
Dean followed him inside, seeing no one else was home. Cas stopped in the living room. “You can...watch TV or...”  
  
“I’m good,” Dean grinned, sitting on the couch, and picking up the remote.  
  
He listened as Cas moved around upstairs. The shower went on and he heard the familiar sounds of water splattering under the even spray. He licked his lips, thinking about Cas being in the shower. Water sliding down his smooth skin, fingers digging into his thick hair to wash it. His hand adjusted his thickening dick in his jeans, and he cleared his throat to get a better grip on the situation. He flipped the channels and tried to ignore the moments he heard him step from the shower.  
  
Just as he had started getting into an episode of Modern Family, Cas came back into the living room. He was fully dressed, his hair still slightly wet and drying a bit disheveled, making Dean grin. He was wearing tan cargo shorts and t-shirt. The extra view of his legs, so muscular and trim, had Dean shifting in his seat again. He knew immediately that he needed to find more ways to see Cas drop his clothes. Work with shirts off, hot summer swimming, anything to see more. “When it gets hotter, we should go to the birch.”  
  
Castiel’s eyes lingered on him for just a moment before he busied himself putting a watch on. “What’s the birch?”  
  
“Oh...it’s what we call the sweet spot in the river that runs through Bobby’s property. There’s a bend in the river and goes out around this huge birch tree. I’ll, uh, show it to you sometime.”  
  
“You fish there?” Castiel asked, looking up at him.  
  
Dean’s chest was struck hard with a need that had his tongue slow to respond. “Uh...what? Yeah, I mean, you could, sure. It’s a great place to swim.”  
  
Cas grinned.  
  
Dean wanted to fucking melt into the couch. He was distinctly aware suddenly that he and Cas were alone in this house and for the first time, Dean thought about what it would be like to kiss him.  
  
“We should go,” Cas said, picking his keys up from the table by the door. “I don’t like leaving Sam alone at the library.”  
  
Dean got to his feet, turning the TV off. What a wasted opportunity. Empty house, hot as sin guy clean and fresh out of a shower. But Cas gave no real indication that he was interested in him. And he’d be damned if he was gonna take that kind of step in real life. But in his head, he could flirt all day long.  
  
  
  
***********************************************  
  
  
  
June 25, 2009  
  
Castiel grinned at the sight that met his eyes. Dean had insisted they go see the birch today. Castiel thought it might not be a good idea. He did not encourage situations where he and Dean were alone. When he was around others, he kept his increasingly dirty thoughts to himself much better. When they were alone and conversation was more direct, even accidentally touching, it was so very much harder. There had been a few moments where he thought Dean might be flirting. But he was flirty by nature, it seemed. He hit on girls at the store, the library, the park, anywhere. And they seemed to not need to be a certain type. His age, older, black, white, tall, short, athletic, or bookish. Dean was a flirt.  
  
But when they were alone, Dean was either stiff and gruff or flirty. What he wasn’t sure of, was if Dean meant to be flirty or if it was just his personality. Either way, Castiel’s musings tipped dangerously into inappropriate thoughts. Dean’s tan, bare back working in the sun. His sturdy wrists and steady hands that skillfully ran tractors. His slim hips with a faint trail of reddish-brown hair that led from the dip of his belly button to the button of his jeans. His easy smiles and hard laughs. Sweaty hair and grimy face from a long work day. And all the freckles. Ohhhh, Cas had it bad. Dean was an eye-full of candy. But he was young. Legal (he was fairly sure) but still a high school kid.   
  
Castiel had entirely NO business corrupting a young mind like he fantasized about corrupting Dean. But even Bobby was surprised the boys had not been to the birch yet. Dean had come out of the barn on a four-wheeler and insisted Castiel jump on so he could take him to see the farm’s treasured swimming spot.  
  
As Cas straddled the seat behind him, Dean blushed, keeping his eyes resolutely on the handlebars in front of him.  
  
“Ready?” Dean called.  
  
Castiel gripped the rack behind himself as Dean jerked a few inches ahead, turning to him with a teasing grin. He did it again, making the thing lurch forward. Castiel, his awkward grip not enough, smirked at Dean and grabbed his hips to hold on tight.  
  
Dean laughed, taking off much quicker than Castiel ever would have driven. He sped along the farm’s roads, cutting through a path to another barn, circling around to the house again. Dean handled the dirt roads with ease, passing the house again and then turning off the road onto a well-beaten path, going slower on the uneven climb. There had been no need for the entire first part of the trip, other than to speed around the flat roads. If Dean was trying to impress him, it was working.  
  
They crested a hill and Dean pulled the four-wheeler onto a patch of weeded grass. He shut the engine off and leaned back, his back bumping into Castiel’s chest. “We gotta walk the rest.”  
  
Castiel dismounted, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he looked around.  
  
“Come on!” Dean waved, following the narrowing path.  
  
It was not a far walk and Castiel could hear the water as soon as they rounded the next corner. There was a long stretch of bank where you could easily get to the water.  
  
“Come on, city-boy. It’s a little further.” Dean tossed a grin over his shoulder and it was another tiny moment that he did not know if Dean was flirting or if he was reading way more into it.  
  
Either way, he was more than happy to follow him anywhere. The path veered into the woods again before coming back to the river. As Castiel stepped into the clearing, he stopped.  
  
The river wound like a snake with a hard curve around a giant birch tree, whose trunk and lower branches were so thick they looked swollen. The tree looked like it was on a little island with the river carving its way around it. A tire swing hung from one thick limb and a rope from another.  
  
A few steps ahead and lower down the path, Dean stopped and turned back to him with light and pride in his eyes. “Welcome to the best place on Earth.”  
  
Castiel grinned wide. It was beautiful.  
  
He followed Dean to the river bank. The current was slow and steady with a melodic burbling noise.   
  
“I’ll have to bring some swim trunks,” Castiel mused.  
  
Dean laughed. “Alright, city-boy. Time for you to act like a farmer.” Dean smirked and to Castiel’s shock, pulled his t-shirt off in one flexing swoop, tossing it to the grass.  
  
Castiel’s jaw dropped when Dean’s hands dropped to his jeans, opening them, and sliding them off.  
  
Castiel stepped back in shock as Dean stood there in only his boxers. Dean turned to him with a taunting tease. “Come on, city-boy. The fish won’t eat ya.”  
  
Dean turned, wading into the water.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
“Caaaas!” Dean yelled. “Get your ass in here!”  
  
Challenged, Castiel took his shirt off, flexing his abs just as much as Dean had. And when his shirt lifted from his eyes, he caught Dean staring at him as he bit his lower lip. He looked away as he unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them to the ground near Dean’s. He fought to control his dick, forcing himself to not have an erection right now. The result must have been a stern look as he waded into the water, Dean watching with riveted eyes.  
  
Dean’s teasing smile was gone and he toyed with his hands in front of himself in the water.  
  
Castiel remembered to grin, relaxing now that his waist was below water. “It’s freezing,” he huffed.  
  
Dean stammered into a grin. “Right?! Got you in though.”  
  
Castiel, realizing just what a brat Dean was, splashed him with a decent wave of water.  
  
Dean sucked in a breath of cold shock as he turned and swiped one back, making Castiel almost squeal before dropping into the water fully. It was fucking cold. The current barely tugged at them and he could feel the rocky bottom with his bare feet.  
  
“Come on, we gotta move,” Dean said stiffly, trying to not let his jaw chatter.  
  
“You are such a brat,” Cas laughed, trying his best to warm up. At least he was no longer fighting an erection. It was too fucking cold.  
  
“Ha!” Dean laughed. “I knew if I let you dip a dainty toe in, you’d be all, ‘it’s too cold!’”  
  
Castiel, having grown up with two brothers, knew quite well how to play rough in the water. “That is not how I talk,” he laughed, shoving Dean over so he fell fully into the water.  
  
Dean spluttered up to the surface, gasping at the cold water. “Oh, think you’re badass now?” Dean lunged up at him, wrapping around his middle as the pair fell with a chilling swirl into the cold water. Rather than shove Dean away, he wrapped his arms around him, kicking up to the surface so they both got a quick breath before plunging them both back in. Dean clung for a few playful seconds before they both shoved each other away.  
  
Laughing, they both climbed the bank to lay in the sun.  
  
“Shit! That was cold!” Dean sighed.  
  
Castiel only grinned, letting his head drop back into the grass as the sun already had him feeling warmer.  
  
After laying there for long enough that their hair was mostly dry and slightly wild, Castiel sat up, staring at the tree. He longed to sit in the tire swing and let his toes drag in the water. It was a tractor tire, large and well worn, suspended by two ropes that tied onto the tire in four anchoring knots.   
  
“Guess we should go back,” Dean sighed, looking sleepy. Castiel turned to look at him, muscles across his abs rose and fell gently with his steady breath. He was beautiful. The most beautiful person Castiel had ever met.  
  
“I’m not in a rush,” Castiel said gently, meeting Dean’s eyes for a brief second before looking away.  
  
Dean sat up, tugging his jeans on but not buttoning them, which completely wreaked havoc with Castiel’s brain. “So...what’s college like?”  
  
Thankful for something else to think about, Castiel thought back on his first two years of college. “Enlightening,” he said quietly, realizing just how much he had grown from the time he was Dean’s age. “No one tells you when to do anything. It’s awesome at first. Then kinda crazy because...no one tells you when to do anything. And then...you figure yourself out.”  
  
“Man. Must be awesome. Bet you go to parties all the time.”  
  
Castiel chuckled. “My first year I did. Kinda...partied too much, really. Then I got over it and started focusing more on my grades.”  
  
He knew Dean was staring at him, but he did not give away that he could see him out of his peripheral vision.   
  
“You got a roommate?”  
  
“Mm,” Castiel nodded. “Fergus MacLeod. But we all call him Crowley.”  
  
“Fergus?” Dean laughed. “Bet he’s a ball of laughs! What a dorky name.”  
  
“He’s...interesting. He’s a business major but he reminds me more of a dictator. We don’t really hang out.”  
  
“Huh. Always thought roommates either loved or hated each other.”  
  
Castiel laughed. “I’d say we’re more like Bert and Ernie. Or the Odd Couple. We don’t really fit together, but we make do.”  
  
“Dude! Bert and Ernie are gay. Not a good analogy.”  
  
Castiel frowned. “Bert and Ernie are not gay.”  
  
Dean laughed. “They are definitely gay.”  
  
Their eyes met, Castiel’s narrowed, wondering if Dean was going to say something homophobic.   
  
“Not that I care,” Dean shrugged.  
  
Castiel stared at the bank of the river, watching a turtle slip silently into the stream. “College kids are a lot more open minded than small town people.”  
  
Dean snorted a laugh. “Really? I kinda thought it was the other way around. All the people I know going to college are snooty jerks that just wanna go drink and party and blow their parent’s money. And they already have that I’m-better-than-you look.”  
  
Castiel turned to look at Dean more perceptively. “If you don’t go to college, what are you going to do?”  
  
Dean shrugged, not meeting his eye. “Work the farm.”  
  
Castiel scoffed. “It’s not even your farm. How will you buy a house or be...independent?”  
  
Dean went up on one elbow, frowning at him. “This is better than any job you could ever get with whatever diploma you’re going to walk out of there with.”  
  
Castiel frowned. “I’m going to make a difference in the world. Bees are almost endangered. Without them we can’t even sustain the crops you’re so eager to tie yourself to!”  
  
“And you can’t eat without food,” Dean countered, pulling his shirt on.  
  
Castiel found Dean’s argument immature and uneducated. Of course, farms and farmers made a difference in the food they ate, but it was cheaper and more sustainable to out-source it. Besides, it only fed the world market of trade. But he was a global thinker and it made sense that Dean was small minded, only thinking of what was right in front of him. Rather than argue with his boss’s nephew, he tugged his own clothes on and readied himself to leave.   
  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
Dean sat on the front porch of Bobby’s house that night, deep in thought of what Cas had said. He’d been so pissed at the arrogant ass that he barely said anything after dropping him off by his car.  
  
“Yer lookin’ awful serious,” Bobby said quietly.  
  
Dean shrugged. “Jus’ thinkin’.”  
  
“About?”  
  
Dean sighed. “Think I’ll make enough money workin’ here to...have an apartment or buy my own place?”  
  
Bobby looked down, dragging the heel of one boot forward and back idly. “I’ll do my best, Dean. I know it’s important to you. And I’m glad. It’s just been a tough couple years and...ya might need winter work to supplement.”  
  
Dean nodded. He could do that.  
  
“You still savin’ for a truck?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean nodded.  
  
“You know you can live here as long as you want,” Bobby added.   
  
Dean grinned at his uncle. That had always been the plan. Since he was old enough to have a plan. But now that he thought about it, living with his uncle was not the best goal to have. He should be wanting his own place. His own life. It may be that Cas knew more of what he was talking about than Dean had given him credit for. He loved it here, but that may be a childish dream he needed to amend. His guidance counselor at school would agree. All they ever talked about was college. And Dean had kicked ass at every math class they put him in. He may be able to do something with that.  
  
Bobby said goodnight and went in, but Dean was transfixed on the silhouette of the barn. Perhaps he should be aiming higher. Cas may take him more seriously if he started talking about college too, instead of the unreadable looks the guy gave him so often.  


  
********************************************  
  
  
July 2, 2009  
  
  
“You boys done in the south field?” Bobby asked, seeing Sam and Dean sitting on the tailgate of his truck sipping lemonade.  
  
“Yep,” they both answered.  
  
“Uncle Bobby, can you teach me how to drive the truck? Dean won’t let me.”  
  
Bobby laughed, taking a long drink of water from the hose. As he turned the spigot off, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “How bout you drive me inta town and we’ll pick up lunch. I’m too beat to cook.”  
  
“Yes!” Sam cheered, jumping off the tailgate and sticking his tongue out at Dean.  
  
“Dean, you and Cas can scrub down the wine crocks and buckets til we get back.”  
  
Dean nodded, hopping off the tailgate and closed it. “Sure.”  
  
Cas followed him without question to the cellar doors around the side of the house. They went down the steep wooden stairs, Dean tugging the string to pull the lightbulb on. With the dim glow, he found the switch to turn the other lights on, lighting the cellar. Since he’d taken Cas swimming a week ago, he’d felt more nervous around the guy. Yesterday, he had purposely taken his shirt off to work in the sun. He was a little sunburnt on his shoulders, but it had been totally worth it to catch the long looks the guy gave him. He could flirt with girls just fine, which was stupid, because he didn’t have any interest in them. It was just...easy. But he struggled to find ways to flirt with Cas. He knew he liked guys but had never been brave enough at school to try it.  
  
There was no need to be working shirtless now and he bit his lip trying to think of what else he could do to see if Cas was interested in him like he suspected.  
  
“Is this for making wine?” Cas asked, looking around at all the pots, containers and odd assortment of things Bobby stored down here.  
  
“Yep. You like wine?” Dean asked.  
  
“It’s okay. I prefer beer. Or vodka.”  
  
“Nice,” Dean laughed, trying not to let the deep rumble of Cas’ voice distract him.  
  
He pulled two heavy crocks from the back room, rolling one over to Cas. He was used to explaining things as he went by now. Though Cas was a lot better helping in the fields than he was when he first came.  
  
“We wipe these down real good,” he said absently. “Tomorrow we harvest more strawberries, then we’ll spend a couple days hullin’ ‘em. Then the real fun begins. We mash ‘em in these crocks.”  
  
Cas grinned at the thought. “How long will it take before the wine is ready?”  
  
Dean rung a rag out from the soapy bucket he’d made in the cellar’s sink. “Takes...aw, you’ll be gone when this batch is ready to bottle.”  
  
“Don’t sound so sad,” Cas teased.  
  
Dean glanced over his shoulder at him. Cas would be gone. Back to college. Moving on with his important life. And Dean would be in Kansas, in high school. He dreaded it. “Breaks my heart,” he teased back. Turning back to the rag in his hands, he turned the water off. “We bottle it in October. You’ll be hittin’ the books and partying. And when you drink your nasty vodka, you can wish you were here with me drinking strawberry wine.” He grinned as he wrung the rag out again. As if a college guy would miss a stupid high school kid.  
  
“I will,” Cas said quietly, much more seriously than Dean had expected.  
  
Feeling shaken by the simple statement, Dean handed him the rag with a blush. His eyes dropped when Cas’ fingers brushed his unnecessarily.  
  
Dean turned to pick up his own rag, clearing his throat nervously. He picked his crock up, sitting it on the wooden counter. Cas did the same, still watching him.  
  
“So, just wipe off the dust. We cleaned ‘em real good last October when we made the last batch.”  
  
Cas nodded, wiping his own crock down.   
  
“Been lookin’ into Kansas University,” Dean said quietly.  
  
“Really? Thought you were just gonna work here.”  
  
Dean licked his lips, keeping his eyes on the crock. “Nah. I mean, I love this place, but...need something better, ya know?”  
  
“Yeah,” Cas agreed, turning his crock to start the other side. “That’s good. I’m pretty sure if Bobby paid you what he planned to, he’d be broke in four years tops.”  
  
“What?” Dean said, his eyes landing hard on Cas.  
  
Cas shrugged. “My first week here we went over all the paperwork to running a farm like this. It’s part of my intern responsibilities. And he’s...struggling.”  
  
Dean stared at him until Cas met his eyes.  
  
“Farming doesn’t pay,” he shrugged. “But I gave him some cost saving ideas. He seemed pretty excited about a few of them.”  
  
Dean had no idea Bobby was struggling that much. “That’s good,” he mumbled, refocusing on the crock in front of him.  
  
“You should come visit me at school and see what you think of Iowa State University. It’s a good school.”  
  
Dean flashed a grin at him. “You gonna take me to some parties?”  
  
Cas’ eyes dropped to Dean’s mouth before jumping back to his eyes. “I could.”  
  
Dean chuckled, so sparked by the look that all he could do was blush and keep wiping out the inside of the crock, going on his tiptoes to reach all the way to the bottom.  
  
“Guess I could stay with you, right? Crash in your room?”  
  
“You can stay with me,” Cas said with a warmth that had Dean blushing all over.  
  
Cas wasn’t even looking at his crock anymore, but Dean kept moving like everything was normal. Like Cas wasn’t inviting him to stay over. Like he wasn’t watching every move he made with way more than interest in his blue eyes.   
  
Dean turned to the sink, rinsing his cloth again and wringing it out. Wanting more than anything to keep the sharp attention he had from Cas, he forced a low chuckle. “Or you can kick Crowley out for a night or two and we could...” Dean licked his lips, biting a grin, “hang out.”  
  
  
His face flushed a heat so hot he had to wipe his forehead with the back of his forearm. He had seriously just fucking said that. And how Cas chose to take it -  
  
His chin lifted as he stared at the stone wall in front of him, hearing a quiet sound from behind him. Maybe Cas would leave and avoid him for the rest of the summer. Perhaps he would make fun of him or shit...what if he got pissed and decked him for suggesting such a thing?  
  
His entire body stilled and went on high alert as Cas stepped up behind him, his hands reaching around him to rest onto the edge of the sink. He took a shaky breath, feeling Cas’ hard lines behind him, his chest against his back, his arms just under his, his hips against his ass, the toes of his boots touching the outside of his own boot heels. And then the shock of the low rumble of Cas’ voice right beside his ear.  
  
“I think I’d prefer if it were just us.”  
  
Dean tried to control his gasping breath, tried to steady his shaking hands, and forced his hips NOT to move. What did he say? What did he do?  
  
“Would you?” Cas growled.  
  
Would he what? Fuck! He’d lost all thread of any words spoken. He could feel Cas breathing against him, the soft move of his chest and the breaths puffing against his earlobe and neck.  
  
“Yeah,” he said breathless, no idea what he was saying yes to.  
  
“I think you’ve been flirting with me for a while now, Dean.”  
  
Oh fuck. He was going to black out if he didn’t breathe. But how did you breathe when the sexiest person in the world whispered your name in your ear??? And he was so busted. He had been flirting. He definitely had been flirting. But nothing near the earth-shattering moves Cas was making right now.  
  
“Yeah,” he said again, breathless.  
  
Dean’s world tipped and his knees went weak when he felt the unmistakable slide of Cas’ lips down his neck, a kiss landing in the bend to his shoulder. His jaw dropped and his mind almost whited out with godthatfeelsgoodsogoodsomotherfuckingohmigodgood.  
  
Cas lifted his lips, the corner of his mouth and his nose against Dean’s neck. “Well, I’ve noticed. Working so hard with no shirt on, making me drinks, bending over in front of me every chance you get.”  
  
Dean’s breath hitched. His dick was straining with every word. He was going to come in his pants.  
  
“W-wasn’t sure if you liked guys,” Dean managed.  
  
“I do. The question is, do you?”  
  
Dean glanced down. Oh buddy, if you could see the state of my dick, you’d know for sure. His eyes noted the white strain to Cas’ knuckles where he gripped the edge of the sink. Ohfuckohfuck that was hot.  
  
Dean had to get a grip. He had to stop acting like it was his first time. Cas was going to catch on quick and hit the road if he couldn’t get his shit together and act like he was on board instead of on board so hard he fell off the other side.  
  
“I definitely do,” Dean growled back.  
  
Cas’ chest backed away a fraction and his grip eased. “Turn around, Dean.” His mouth was gone from his neck and Dean felt cold and barren without the raging furnace of Cas’ body touching him. He swallowed hard, terrified of what his breath smelled like. And...if he turned around in this tight space, there was no question if Cas was going to kiss him. Cas was waiting like a lion poised to pounce. All he was waiting for was him to turn the fuck around. Dean licked his lips, stepping to start turning. Every few degrees of his turn gave him more and more information. The look of absolute, imminent need in Cas’ eyes, the posture of his shoulders, so sure of what he wanted and was about to have. Cas’ arms going into sudden action as his hands gripped Dean’s hips. Dean’s own hands fit naturally, if not nervously, onto his upper arms.   
  
There was no hesitation in Cas’ eyes. No worry. No nervousness. No question of any sort.  
  
Dean hoped he didn’t look half as in shock as he felt.   
  
“Dean -”  
  
Like the pull of a trigger, Dean dove the inch forward, crashing into Cas’ mouth with a kiss clumsier than he would ever like to recall. But Cas was there, just as eager and just as strong. He gripped Cas’ arms in panicked need, pulling him in to get the full-frontal inferno of Cas’ body against his. He tilted his head, parting his lips in desperate need of more, which Cas answered, immediate and sure, with a hot, sweet sweep of his tongue. He heard himself moan in a needy way that shocked himself, humiliated himself, and instigated a fire in himself, simultaneously.  
  
Cas answered the call with a groan of satisfaction that lit every cell of his body on fire. He felt Cas press his hips hard into him and his hands come up to cup his head, taking control. He slowed his frenzied tongue to lap against Cas’, his hands sliding around his arms and around his back.  
  
Cas pulled back, staring at Dean with a frenzied fire of his own. Moving slower, he tilted his head, kissing him again, hard and wet, the noises they were making doing nothing for the dire situation in his pants. Cas’ hips rolled against his again and Dean groaned.  
  
He could feel Cas’ cock a few layers of fabric away. Feel the hot length hard and slowly rutting against his own. Their feet shuffled and Cas was between his legs with all the leverage the sink afforded, which amounted to a heavy pressure.  
  
Cas moved one arm, his hand pressing against the small of his back while the other hand kept pressure at the back of his head. Dean had never felt anything close to this in his life. He whined, unable to stop an inevitable coil of heat.  
  
Cas nipped at his lip teasingly and ground against him even harder.  
  
“Cas,” Dean panted. “Fuck.”  
  
Cas’ dirty grin gave a little look of surprise before diving in to kiss him. He rolled his hips again and Dean gasped, losing the kiss. He rolled again and Dean froze.  
  
“Yeahhh,” Cas groaned, rolling again as Dean rocked and rutted against him, wetness seeping into his boxers, pants, and the bottom of his shirt.  
  
“Fuck!” Dean gasped, clumsily taking the hot kiss Cas gave him. His hands were caressing his body as Dean rocked again, kissing and moaning. Cas slowed his speed and backed up only an inch to grin at Dean.  
  
Dean was blushing furiously. “Sorry,” he panted, wanting to die.  
  
Cas bit his lip, watching him with an eager grin. “We’ll have to work on that.”  
  
Dean’s eyes jumped to meet his. Cas wasn’t pissed? He wasn’t turned off? He leaned in, kissing Dean chastely. No, he wasn’t annoyed. He was...amused? Happy?  
  
“I w-wasn’t expecting all that,” Dean whispered, hating that he couldn’t control himself.  
  
Cas looked down, grinning. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”  
  
Their eyes met again, Dean feeling shaken to his core. He licked his swollen lips, getting his breathing back under control. They searched each other’s faces in a new light. Dean feeling extremely vulnerable as his spunk chilled against his skin.  
  
The sound of the truck rumbling to a stop alerted them both to the world outside them.  
  
“Bobby can’t know,” Dean said flatly.  
  
Cas nodded, still studying him. “Dean...please tell me you’re eighteen.”  
  
“I am,” Dean frowned, the realization sinking in. “Hey, I’m on board for this. I just think Bobby will...keep us separated.”  
  
Cas grinned a little easier. “Alright.”  
  
Dean let his hands slide as Cas took a step back. He glanced at the crock, picking up the abandoned rag.  
  
“We’re back!” Sam yelled.  
  
Cas glanced down at Dean’s pants again with a worried little grin. “You’re -”  
  
“I got it,” Dean blushed, closing his eyes in mortification as Cas leaned passed him to lay the rag on the counter.  
  
If his eyes were open, he would have seen the kiss coming. But he reacted instantly, kissing him back just as soft.  
  
“I look forward to next time,” Cas said softly, leaving him there.  
  
He stood there, leaning against the counter, blush easing as his smile remained. Cas’ steps had retreated up the stairs several minutes ago by the time Dean began to move, grimacing at the state of his pants.  
  
  
Dean went into the kitchen, shirt and pants soaked in the front. When Bobby gave him a curious look, Dean chuckled. “Had a fight with one of the crocks.”  
  
“Looks like the crock won,” Bobby said gruffly.  
  
Dean headed up the back steps to change. “Oh, I’d say I won,” he said under his breath.  



	3. Nothing Time Hasn’t Touched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to 2019 with some boys who really need a little Christmas spirit.

Chapter 3: Nothing Time Hasn’t Touched  
  
  
December 12, 2019  
  
Dean carried the fourth box to his car, shoving it far back in his trunk as Sam packed his things like a lovesick zombie. Another car pulled up as Dean stood, closing the trunk.  
  
He sighed heavily, seeing Amelia get out of the passenger seat and another man get out of the driver’s side.  
  
Amelia gave him a nervous grin. “Hi, Dean.”  
  
Dean stared at her. Was he really supposed to be nice? The only thing worse than him having his own heart broken, was seeing his brother’s heart being broken.  
  
Amelia fumbled with her gloves. “Um...is Sam inside?”  
  
“We’re packing,” Dean snapped, walking by her to re-enter the apartment. He turned in the front door. “Come back in an hour. We’ll be gone.”  
  
“This is my apartment,” she insisted, tucking her curly brown hair behind her ear.  
  
“And it was Sam’s. Have a tiny bit of decency and get out of here.”  
  
Her eyes watered as a man stepped up behind her. “I think you better watch your tone.” His tight buzz cut and soldier’s build told him this was the jerk his brother was being dumped for.  
  
“Oh, you wanna talk to me?” Dean snapped.  
  
“Stop!” Amelia said, holding hands up at both. “Don, please, please wait in the car.”  
  
The man’s cold eyes slid away from Dean as he turned and got in the car. He was not willing to touch Amelia, so he had to move when she pushed her way through. Dean shut the door with a slam and sat on the couch. There was no way this was going to go well.  
  
It was less than a minute later when he heard raised voices from the bedroom. Getting to his feet, he grabbed a garbage bag and started putting all the Samish DVDs into the bag. This became more than difficult, knowing his brother’s love of sappy movies. He dumped all of them into the bag and wandered around the room looking for anything else that may be his brother’s.  
  
He had the bag, a lamp, a chair, and some dishes packed and loaded by the time Sam came out of the bedroom. Sam, pissed and on a mission, snatched everything from his coat, an odd snatch of serving spoons, a picture off the wall, and one couch pillow (leaving the other matching one) as he stormed through the apartment. Dean helped situate it all as their dog, Riot, stayed nervously pinned to Sam’s ankles.  
  
Sam headed into the apartment again, snatching more things as Amelia stood there with her arms crossed.  
  
Sam stuffed another armload of things into the trunk (bags and boxes too much for him to process apparently).  
  
“Did ya check the closet?” Dean asked.  
  
“Yep,” Sam snapped.  
  
“Bathroom?” Dean asked.  
  
Sam held a finger up, as if that were genius. He marched back into the apartment, glaring at the other car as he went.  
  
Dean brought another garbage bag into the bathroom, Sam snatching it to toss almost everything into it. He ripped a towel from the rack, shoving it in next.  
  
“The towels?” Amelia snapped.  
  
“I need towels!” Sam snapped tightly.  
  
“Then take the green ones!”  
  
“I want the gray,” he grinned, eyes hard as stone.  
  
She threw her hands up, crossing her arms as he yanked the rug from the floor, stuffing it into the bag.  
  
Dean bit his lip, trying not see the humor in his brother’s actions as he rifled through a basket, taking nail clippers, soap, shampoo, razors.  
  
“Those are my razors,” she said sharply.  
  
“I bought them,” Sam argued, no humor behind his grin. “Do you need razors, Dean?”  
  
“I do,” Dean grinned, enjoying his brother’s tiny wins of revenge.  
  
“Let’s go,” Sam declared, shoving the bag at Dean, who glanced at Amelia.   
  
“Nice, close shave,” Dean grinned, wiping his fingers down his cheek.   
  
She rolled her eyes, following Sam.  
  
“Put that back!” Amelia yelled as Sam dumped the dog’s water dish. “You are NOT taking the dog!”  
  
“Oh shit,” Dean murmured, taking the bag to the trunk. Before he could return, Sam came out the door with a garbage bag full of dog food, bowls, and other crap that must be associated with the dog.  
  
Sam slung the bag into the back seat, Dean biting his lip at the abuse his baby was taking.  
  
“Riot!” Sam called. The dog went running to Sam as Amelia started yelling, Douche getting out of the car to back her up.  
  
“I said no!” Amelia yelled, the dog’s ears dropping in confusion as it looked from Sam to Amelia.  
  
“I found him,” Sam said so angrily that his voice and hands were shaking.  
  
“You hit him with your car!” She yelled.  
  
Sam held his hands up in a whatever gesture. “Finders keepers.”  
  
“You were going to leave him at the vet!” She yelled, grabbing Riot by the collar.  
  
“And then I paid for his vet bills!” Sam yelled.  
  
“Actually, I paid his vet bills,” Dean chimed in, everyone ignoring him.  
  
“I walk him, feed him, I’m the one who plays with him and trained him. You were the one who said we couldn’t afford to keep him so just leave him at the vet. Besides, he sleeps with me and likes me better.”  
  
“You aren’t taking the dog,” Don the douche stated.  
  
Sam’s anger focused like a laser onto Don. Sam raised to his full height and Dean stepped up beside him, just as formidable.  
  
Amelia tugged Riot closer to herself, stepping back.  
  
“Let the dog go, Amelia,” Sam said with finality.  
  
“No!”  
  
Don, not looking like he cared about the dog one bit, sighed. “Amelia, let him go.”  
  
“No!”  
  
Everyone stopped at the unexpected growl from the dog.  
  
Sam lifted his hands up, his mouth twitching sadly as he stepped back. “Don’t hurt him.”  
  
“I wasn’t!” She let go of his collar, petting the dog and apologizing, kissing him on the head. The dog backed away from her, shaking off before he was looking to Sam again, tail wagging slowly.  
  
Sam’s shoulders drooped and Dean had had enough. Dean whistled and the dog darted to his feet. “Get in the car,” he said, pointing to the open passenger door. The dog bounded inside and Sam turned two of the most appreciative puppy-dog eyes on him before getting in the car with the dog.  
  
Amelia fumed but said nothing as she glared at him.   
  
“Hey, you get Douche. I mean Don.” Dean flashed her a winning smile before getting in his car and taking off.  
  
Riot lay in the middle of the seat and over one of Sam’s thighs as they left in silence.  
  
Ten miles down the road, Sam broke down in tears, cuddling the dog to him.  
  
Dean sighed, patting the dog’s back end.   
  
Ten more miles down the road, Sam tucked his hair behind his ears and wiped his face off. “You’re the best brother in the world.”  
  
Dean smirked at the road. “Love you too, Sammy.”  
  
  
  
**************************************  
  
  
  
“Dad’s gonna shit a brick,” Dean warned as they pulled up to the house he grew up in. The drive from Kansas City to Lawrence was only a few hours, but somehow it felt so much longer and so much heavier.  
  
“Hey, if he says the dog can’t stay, then we leave,” Sam grinned.  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Dean sighed as he got out of the car.  
  
Sam had stayed at Dean’s, sneaking the dog in and out of the apartment building multiple times a day to take him for walks. The Australian Shepherd was quiet. And other than his hair sticking to everything and the clickity clack of his paws on Dean’s polished floors, he honestly didn’t mind having the little guy around. Not that he was admitting that to Sam.  
  
It was Christmas Eve and he had spent the last two days working overtime to make up for what he would miss over Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at work.   
  
Sam ate the healthy crap Dean brought home without complaint. And he only raised a brow a few times when Dean was on the phone with clients all evening. He did tease him about the treadmill, but other than that, he was mostly just stewing in his own pity about his break-up.  
  
Dean gave him space and Sam gave him space back.  
  
The two weeks had gone by quickly all in all.  
  
Dean banged on the front door so neither of them got shot when crossing the threshold. “Dad! It’s me and Sam!”  
  
The house was in disrepair from the curb inward. He sighed at the living room, scattered beer cans and an empty, correction, two empty bottles of whiskey tucked beside his chair.   
  
Riot panted from beside Sam’s leg, pausing only long enough to sniff with disdain.   
  
John came through the back door, beef jerky hanging from his mouth with his hands full of groceries. “Hey!”  
  
“Hey!” The boys called back.  
  
“You’re early!”  
  
Dean and Sam exchanged a quick grin. “We’re right on time.”  
  
John shrugged with a quick eye roll. “Eh, what can I say. I’m a putz in my old age.”  
  
Dean took two of the bags, Sam hanging back with his furry surprise. “You’re not old,” Dean scoffed.  
  
“Tell my liver that,” John huffed, finally pulling the jerky from the corner of his mouth.  
  
“You makin’ us dinner?” Dean asked, opening one of the bags.  
  
He looked up, seeing his dad standing there with half a grin. “It’s good to see you boys.”  
  
Dean turned in time to get a hug. “Oh! We’re hugging!”  
  
John clapped him on the back, moving on to Sam, hugging him.  
  
“Good to see you Dad.”  
  
“You too!” His eyes dropped down to the dog, Riot pausing in panting to stare back at him, wagging his tail slightly.  
  
“Who’s this?”  
  
“It’s, uh, Riot. My dog. Um, Amelia and I split up and he’s kind of...with me right now.”  
  
John raised a brow. “Riot, huh. This payback because I always said no to a dog?”  
  
“No,” Sam scoffed. “I just...he didn’t have anywhere else to go right now.”  
  
John stepped away from them, his mood only slightly dipping. “The food is for tomorrow. Figured tonight we could eat out.”  
  
By the time they came back and watched a few re-runs on TV, Dean had cleaned the living room and kitchen. As he came in from dumping the mop water out in the yard, his dad was getting a beer from the fridge. “You didn’t have to clean the joint.”  
  
“Consider it a present,” Dean smirked, rinsing the bucket out.  
  
“How you doin’, Dean?”  
  
“Dean’s fine,” Dean muttered.  
  
“Speaking in the third person says otherwise. And you look...thin. Kinda up-tight.”  
  
Dean nodded, looking out the kitchen window, seeing a million flashbacks to his childhood playing in the yard with his friends. With Sam. With his mom. And Dad.  
  
Dean licked his lips, fighting an eruption that had been brewing inside him since Sam arrived at his apartment broken-hearted. “I hate it here,” he blurted, feeling horrible for saying it out loud.  
  
He turned, seeing his dad with a far-off look on his face. “Me too. It’s like a prison.”  
  
Shocked that his dad heard him, agreed with him, and had been living in the face of their lonely house feeling this way, Dean came over to the table.  
  
“Your mom would be so disappointed in me,” he whispered as if her ghost would hear.  
  
“Dad,” Dean shook his head. “She’d understand. It hurt. It hurt all of us, losing her.”  
  
“I can’t seem to move,” John said, his eyes darting around the kitchen. “I just...sit. I watch TV. I drink. It’s all so...pointless.”  
  
Dean sat in one of the other kitchen chairs, Sam coming to stand in the kitchen doorway.  
  
“It feels like the house is going to swallow me whole,” John said, still staring off into nothing. He huffed a laugh. “Sometimes I drive to the edge of town and get a motel room.” He shook his head sadly. “I still can’t sleep.”  
  
Dean’s heart broke. All the annoying anger that had been compounding since their mother’s death and their father’s downward spiral seemed to spill out and evaporate. The tight pressure that had been there died out to a fearful emptiness.  
  
Dean stood up. Sam was hurting. He was hurting. Their dad was hurting. “Let’s get out of here.”  
  
“And go where?” John huffed.  
  
“Not to my place. Technically, I’m homeless,” Sam said bitterly.  
  
“Mine either. I don’t like my place much either,” Dean admitted, not missing the stark comparison to his father.   
  
“Let’s go to Bobby’s,” Sam grinned, half kidding.  
  
Dean grinned. “Dude. He’d be so shocked if we just showed up.”  
  
John huffed.  
  
“Come on!” Dean laughed. “Misery loves company, right? We’re having a shitty Christmas this year. Every family has one sooner or later and this is ours.”  
  
Sam shrugged, “Works for me.”  
  
“He would be shocked,” John grinned.  
  
“Let’s go!” Dean clapped his hands, liking this idea more by the minute. “I haven’t been there in a long time.”  
  
  
  
*******************************************************  
  
  
  
Castiel slid his hand over his mouth, hiding his grin for not the first time that evening. Charlie dipped her head, her quick grin catching Castiel’s eye for the briefest second, making them both grin all the harder.  
  
“See! I told you it would come out perfect with the pineapples pinned to the ham. Not just the juice poured over it,” Mrs. Tran said, sitting the ham on the table.  
  
“Yes, mother,” Kevin said, sitting a dish of scalloped potatoes on the table next to it.  
  
Channing sat a dish of green beans on the table with a murderous look on her face.  
  
The holiday meal had been prepared by Channing and Kevin, so mostly by a helicoptering Linda Tran.   
  
Charlie leaned over in pretense of pouring Castiel some wine. “Channing is going to kill her.”  
  
“Can you imagine if they ever have children?” Castiel whispered back.  
  
“Oh my God,” Charlie squeaked.  
  
“What?” Mrs. Tran asked, distractedly.  
  
“Looks so good!” Charlie covered, pouring herself more wine as well.  
  
“So!” Mrs. Tran went on merrily, “I figured you two would have dates at least by now!”  
  
“Mom,” Kevin groaned.  
  
She waved him off, sitting down. “Kevin! Get the serving spoons. And some butter for the table.” She flashed a quick grin before seriously pinning Castiel with a look. “What have you been doing all year? How many dates have you been on?”  
  
“Mom!” Kevin yelled from the kitchen.  
  
“What?! You’re so handsome! Surely somebody has caught your eye!”  
  
Castiel blushed, but he was used to Mrs. Tran’s brand of parenting. “It’s been a slow year.”  
  
“Slow?” She laughed.  
  
“Mrs. Tran,” Channing interrupted tightly, “Please don’t make our friends uncomfortable.”  
  
“I’m not!” Linda waved her off. Pointing for where Kevin should put each spoon. “Oh, Kevin, where’s the gravy? That boy!”  
  
“I’ll get it,” Channing popped up, glad for the excuse to leave the room.  
  
“I’ve been dating,” Charlie pitched in. “Really thought it was going somewhere too. But...” Charlie shrugged. “It didn’t work out.”  
  
“Oh. Her loss!” Mrs. Tran assured. “That just means there is someone better out there for you.”  
  
Charlie grinned at her. Castiel wished life were that simple. He took Charlie’s hand for a brief squeeze.  
  
“Why can’t you two just get married?” Mrs. Tran asked, for not the first time.  
  
“Ew,” Charlie said at the same time Castiel said, “No, thank you.” They both burst out laughing.  
  
  
By the end of the night, Channing was drunk, Kevin was exhausted, and Charlie and Cas went home to empty beds.  
  
Charlie: You can spend the night if you want. Even though you are gross.  
  
Castiel grinned at the text as he got in bed.  
  
Cas: same goes. And...same.  
  
Charlie: :P <3  
  
  
  
*******************************************************  
  
  
  
Dean stared at the frozen, snow riddled fields of Bobby’s farm. He called Bobby at least once a week, but he had not been here in several years. Time and work just kept slipping away. The thin light of a winter morning was little warmth at their arrival and all of them felt it in their bones.  
  
The fields had grown over now, years since they’d seen the plow. There was nothing time had not touched.  
  
“Damn, this place is lookin’ rough,” John said from the passenger seat.  
  
“Yeah. I can’t believe he hasn’t lost the place yet,” Dean said.  
  
“He’s too stubborn to leave,” Sam added, looking just as haunted by the fields as Dean.  
  
“You boys sure did love comin’ here. Your mom hated it. She was so jealous that you spent your whole summers here.”  
  
Dean scoffed. “She was always workin’. You both were. And Sam and I loved being here.”  
  
“Yeah. Thanks for letting us do that, Dad. I learned so much here.”  
  
“It was good for ya. Fresh country air. Bobby’s cooking. You kids would come home so tan and well fed. Full of stories and plans.”  
  
As Bobby’s house came into view, they were all a bit surprised at the small pine tree lit with Christmas lights in front of the house.  
  
“Well, lookie there,” John grinned. “He didn’t completely Scrooge after all.”  
  
“He officially decorated more than any of us,” Dean grinned. “Who woulda thought?”  
  
They all glanced at each other. “So...who’s knockin’?”  
  
“Sure as hell won’t be me. We might all get kicked out. Or shot,” John grinned sadly.  
  
“I say we send the dog,” Dean grinned.  
  
“I vote Dean,” Sam piped in.  
  
“I second it,” John grinned.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s like working with children. Come on ya chickens.”  
  
Dean opened the screen door, a slew of summer memories sweeping through his mind at the familiar creak of hinges. He pointed at the wreath on the door, smirking at Sam.  
  
Dean knocked on the door.  
  
They waited. Dean wondered if it had always been so damn silent here. He had never noticed it before. He knocked again.  
  
They heard grumbling and cussing from inside, all of them exchanging a grin.  
  
Dean held his grin as he heard Bobby coming the whole way down the hall. “I swear ta God, kid, if you’re bangin’ on my door at six in the mornin’ for -”  
  
Bobby’s face froze in shock.  
  
Dean grinned down at him in his wheelchair. “Merry Christmas, ya grumpy bastard!”  
  
“Dean! What the hell?!” His grin and the way his eyes lit up belied his grumpy words. “Sam!” His grin dropped to stunned shock. “John! What the hell is goin’ on?!”  
  
“We came for Christmas!” Dean grinned, leaning down to hug him, getting a huge hug back.  
  
“Hey, Bobby!” Sam grinned, hugging him next, Riot watching the pair with interest as his head cocked to the side.  
  
“Hey old friend,” John said quietly.  
  
Bobby huffed, shaking John’s offered hand, then the pair hugged. “Good to see you, John.” 

Dean, Sam and Riot went down the hall and into the living room, the other two following.  
  
“Place is a mess,” Bobby said, wheeling into the living room behind them.  
  
“Hope you don’t mind I brought my dog, Riot” Sam said. “Him and I are kinda...between homes at the moment.”  
  
“Mi casa es su casa. Nice ta meet you, Riot.” The dog sniffed his chair in nosy interest but Bobby didn’t seem to mind.  
  
All of them were shocked to see a small Christmas tree in his living room with lights and ornaments on it.  
  
Dean grinned, his chest filling with nostalgia. “Nice tree. Gotta say I’m a little shocked you decorated.”  
  
“Wasn’t me,” Bobby waved him off. “It’s that kid from town that insists on helpin’ me out.”  
  
Dean occasionally heard about the kid from town that helped him with things around the house he couldn’t do from his wheelchair. A wave of guilt that he wasn’t around more often spiked inside him. “I made this one,” he laughed, pointing to a wooden gingerbread ornament with glued-on parts.  
  
“Yep. You two made a lot of those.”  
  
Bobby stayed in his chair as the others took seats on a couch and chair. “What brought you ta Sioux Falls?”  
  
“We missed you,” Sam grinned, charmingly.  
  
“Yer so full of shit your eyes are turnin’ brown,” Bobby scoffed.  
  
They all laughed. John crossed his legs. “I just...couldn’t stand another minute in that house.”  
  
Bobby nodded. No one needed to say that Mary’s death had hurt them all. The loss had broken their family for a time.  
  
“Just seemed like the right place ta be,” John added.  
  
“Well...I’m damn glad ta see ya. All of ya.”  
  
“I brought a turkey,” John said.  
  
“That your peace offering?” Bobby smirked.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“I’ll take it.”  
  
They spent the first half of the day catching up and helping Bobby get the turkey in the oven. He ordered all of them around his kitchen with the same steady expertise he used all those years ago to teach the boys how to farm.  
  
Dean had brought them all gift certificates for online shopping. John had given the boys a few presents before they left, not prepared with one to give Bobby, they had stopped at a Wal-Mart around 3am and bought him a new pile of flannel shirts and some fishing gear. Sam apologized for showing up giftless, claiming his poor-college-kid status to blame.  
  
“I woulda shopped, had I known you were coming,” Bobby said quietly, sitting the shirts aside.  
  
They all waved him off.  
  
“I think I’m gonna go up to the guest room and catch a nap,” John yawned.  
  
“I ain’t been upstairs in few years,” Bobby warned. “And that kid from town only cleans up there once or twice a year. Might be a mess.”  
  
“I’m sure it will be just fine,” John assured him. “I just need an hour or two. And it looks like Riot stole your bed.”  
  
Bobby’s bed, now in the living room to make the house accessible for him, was being used by Riot.  
  
Bobby grinned, petting the dog’s head. “There’s no heat up there either. Sorry.”  
  
John shrugged. “It’s no problem, Bobby. I appreciate you letting us hang out.”  
  
Bobby nodded with a small grin. “The place sure ain’t what it used ta be.”  
  
Dean got up, heading to the kitchen to start on the potatoes. Bobby’s house did look different. The little half bathroom under the stairs was now just a storage spot. A full bathroom with grab bars and a big walk-in shower had been added off of the kitchen where the back door had been. It was comforting to see the stacks of books and signs of little projects being worked on around the house. It was fairly clean, the kitchen and bathroom especially so. Hearing some thumping from upstairs, Dean went up the stairs to check on his dad.  
  
Dust covered the steps and trim along the floorboards. It was ten degrees colder as he got to the top of the steps. His dad was picking up a few boxes in the hall that he had knocked over.  
  
Dean opened Bobby’s old room, seeing a time capsule. Dust covered the nightstand a few cobwebs clung to the corners of the ceiling. The empty spot that used to hold his dresser made Dean hate what had happened to Bobby. They had moved the dresser downstairs to the living room when he had come home from the hospital. His spinal cord injury was something that would keep him on wheels for the rest of his life. The fact that Bobby couldn’t reach half of his house made Dean sad all over again.  
  
“This’ll work,” John said quietly. “Wake me up in an hour or so.”  
  
Dean nodded, staring at the pictures on the nightstand. Aunt Karen. Him and Sam at the birch. His mom and dad. Rumsfeld, Bobby’s old dog, a Blue Tick Hound that used to nap on the hood of Bobby’s old truck.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean said quietly, seeing his dad was looking at the pictures too. He pulled the door shut behind him and stared at the closed guest room door. His and Sam’s room. His home away from home his entire childhood. He swallowed tightly, turning the knob. He hadn’t been in this room since the accident when he had lived with Bobby for several months, taking him to therapy and getting the changes made to his house to help him keep his home.  
  
He closed the door behind him, staring around the small room. The bunk beds looked tiny. He couldn’t believe he and Sam (Sam especially) had ever fit in them. The small desk in front of the window was dusty. He pulled out the wooden chair, sitting there. Memories flipped through his mind of him and Sam staying up late, making plans for treehouses or their futures, writing letters home to their parents, and one very memorable make-out session with his blue-eyed crush. Dean ran a finger over Sam’s dusty science fair trophy, four others sitting behind it. His eyes stopped on a picture, framed, and sitting next to them. It was dusty and had been there for quite some time, but Dean had never seen it before. It was Sam sitting on a tractor tire, eating a huge wedge of watermelon, while Dean stood next to him holding a fishing pole. Next to him stood Cas with a fishing pole and tackle box.   
  
Dean’s insides flipped so harshly his breath caught. He remembered the day. Of all the days for Bobby to stop and take a picture, this day had been a turning point in Dean’s life. A moment so profound that it damn near brought tears to his eyes.  
  
There was a hopeful smile on Dean’s face. And a confident one on Cas’. He looked between him and Sam. It was the last captured moment when the two of them were innocent.   
  
Every step Dean had taken after this moment had been extremely complicated and far from what he had ever dreamed of. His eyes slid back to Cas.  
  
“Jackass,” he muttered.  
  
Disillusioned by the memories, reminded of just all the things his life, and Bobby’s, and his father’s, and hell, maybe even Sam’s would never be, he got up, shutting the door behind roughly him.  
  
He went down the stairs and back to work peeling potatoes.  
  
“Need some help?” Bobby asked.  
  
Dean buried all the angry thoughts in his mind and put on a grin, much like he did at work. “Sure!”  
  
“Sam joined the dog,” he said quietly, wheeling up to the table. “They’re nappin’ in my bed.”  
  
Dean chuckled, dumping potatoes onto the table for the two of them to peel. “You got butter?” Dean grinned.  
  
Bobby scoffed. “Of course.”  
  
  
**********************************************  
  
  
Castiel woke up Christmas morning to Bert and Ernie chasing each other back and forth over his legs, pouncing and batting at each other.  
  
“Guys!” He grumbled, rolling over, wiggling down in his blankets.  
  
He groaned as one of them jumped onto his shoulder, using him as a springboard to attack the other. He sighed heavily, tossing his covers back, getting out of bed. He headed for the kitchen, making a pot of coffee as his two cats thundered like little horses from one end of the apartment to the next.  
  
His apartment was small and simple, keeping his life compact. His cats were his only companions at home, and unlike Mrs. Tran’s insistence, he had no wish to involve anyone else in his little world. He had no wish to decorate for Christmas, since Bert and Ernie would only use a Christmas tree for a jungle gym. And he was fine with that too.  
  
For the most part.  
  
He fed the cats that circled his feet, giving them half canned food with their normally all dry breakfast.  
  
“Merry Christmas, boys,” he smiled, petting their orange tabby backs as they chowed down. He filled their water bowl and retrieved his first cup of coffee for the day.  
  
He was on break for another three weeks and did have several projects planned to keep him busy. But first, he needed to get today over with.  
  
He checked his phone, texting his brothers a merry Christmas and looked at their posts of beautifully decorated living rooms and smiling, happy nieces and nephews opening presents. He could have spent Christmas with either of them but had chosen not to, per usual. His mother said he was difficult and unsociable.  
  
He did not disagree.  
  
After his second cup of coffee and purring thanks from his boys, he got dressed for the day in his usual jeans and t-shirt, flannel added for warmth, and boots. He loved being off and considered himself pretty damn lucky to be a college professor with a long winter break.  
  
He tugged on a hat, gloves, and scarf to go with his coat and headed out the door with two presents.  
  
He drove to Marv’s, grinning at his uncle’s gaudily decorated house. The tiny place had lights hanging from the roof line, every window outlined, and at least seven animatronic and inflatable decorations moving and bobbing in the gusty morning wind.  
  
It was bright, colorful, and made Castiel grin as he bustled to the door, knocking, and going in.  
  
“Morning, Uncle Marv!”  
  
“Merry Christmas!” His uncle hollered from the kitchen.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” Cas called back. He immediately backed up into the living room when his uncle came bustling toward him, plate of fruit cake in one hand and fork in the other.  
  
“Want some?”  
  
“No, thank you,” Cas grinned, eyeing the cake with red and green chunks in it with suspicion.  
  
“Fruit cake gets a bad rap! It’s really very good!”  
  
“I’ll take your word for it,” Cas said, sitting down to take off his coat and knitted accompaniments. “The house looks great.”  
  
“I have an excellent decorator,” Marv winked.  
  
Castiel had hung every light and ran every extension cord. His uncle was exuberant in all he did, including the constant directions he gave while Cas worked.  
  
Marv sat the cake down, jumping up from his recliner to go to his Christmas tree, picking up several packages. “Time for presents! I just can’t wait!”  
  
Surprised to see more than one, Castiel immediately worried he had not gotten his uncle enough.   
  
Marv sat the little stack on Castiel’s lap, stepping back to watch him open them, with the eagerness of a child.  
  
“Thank you, Uncle Marv. You did too much!”  
  
“Please! They could all be socks!”  
  
Knowing better than that, he gave his uncle an appreciative grin.  
  
“Go on!”  
  
Castiel picked up a small box, opening it.  
  
“I got that in Tibet years ago. It’s a wishing box.”  
  
Castiel opened the cardboard box, lifting a small metal box from the tissue paper. His uncle had traveled a lot before settling down in Sioux Falls. He had given him things from his travels before and they were among some of Castiel’s most treasured possessions. The small silver box had three rubies along the front with a hooking clasp.  
  
He lifted the hook, opening the lid. A tiny scroll of very old paper on a copper spool lay inside with a slim, short pencil. “This is so interesting,” Castiel mused aloud, lifting the tiny scroll.  
  
“The custom goes,” Marv said eagerly, “that you write your wish here,” he pointed to the edge of the paper near a slot the paper fed into, “then you roll two clicks and wha-la! Your wish will come true!”  
  
Castiel grinned up at his uncle.  
  
“Then, of course, you pass it on to someone else.”  
  
Castiel studied the cylinder the paper fed into, shaking it gently. He felt powder slide back and forth inside it.  
  
“This is amazing!” Castiel placed it back into the box, curling the paper that hung out to sit neatly, as it spent most of its life, nestled into the silk lined box.  
  
“Make it a special wish. You know how devout those Tibetans are!” Marv grinned.  
  
“Did you use it?”  
  
“I did,” Marv beamed a grin at him.  
  
“What was your wish?”  
  
“I only wrote one word. Books.”  
  
“Books?” Castiel asked.  
  
“I wanted a life surrounded by books.” His smile beamed on strongly. “Most people want love or money or success. I wanted stories. A life surrounded by stories. And I got it! Our little library has superseded every other library in this county. The state, even. And it could all be because of that little wish box.” Marv shrugged, absolutely happy with his life.  
  
Castiel envied him for that. “I’ll...have to think about it.”  
  
“Oh yes! It’s meant to be special. And then you pass it on.”  
  
“Thank you, Uncle.” Castiel wrapped the box up again.  
  
“Oh yes, yes, open the bigger one next!”  
  
Castiel couldn’t imagine more coming after a gift like that.  
  
He opened the wrapping, studying the package.  
  
“It’s a back sponge that has a loofa on one side and the softest cloth on the other. I bought one last summer and you would not BELIEVE how it will improve your shower experience!”  
  
Castiel chuckled at his uncle’s excitement.  
  
“Thank you!”  
  
“Oh, now the last one!” He clapped his hands together, his eyes twinkling excitedly.  
  
“Uncle Marv, you really did too much.”  
  
“Nonsense! You’ve done a million things for me over the years! Every little thing I ask.”  
  
Castiel opened the slim box, lifting tissue paper aside to reveal two envelopes. Castiel’s jaw dropped in shock. “What is this?”  
  
“Two airline tickets. The other is a substantial gift certificate to a timeshare company. There’s enough on that thing to stay abroad for two weeks if you plan it right!”  
  
Castiel was shocked. “Plane tickets to where?”  
  
“Anywhere!” Marv shrugged excitedly, thrilled with his expectations.  
  
“I don’t understand,” Castiel said quietly, looking up at him.  
  
“Go! See something! See...bees in Africa! Castles in England! Nude beaches in Europe! Something!” His elated smile sobered slightly. “You spend too much time in books. You have to see the world at least a little to appreciate the paper between your fingers. The turn of the next great page. Walk somewhere ancient, Castiel. Smell the ocean. But get out there at least a little bit and get a taste of it.”  
  
Castiel stared at the gifts again. “Marv...I don’t know what to say!”  
  
“My only price, you have to tell me all about it. Preferably over take-out from the Roadhouse.”  
  
Castiel frowned at him. “There are two tickets, won’t you be joining me?”  
  
Marv grinned, closing his eyes as he shook his head no. “This trip is for you. Take Charlie. Or...someone you wish you had more time to be with. But don’t wait, Castiel. Don’t wait for the perfect person or the perfect time. Because neither one will magically appear. You have to make it happen.”  
  
Castiel had no idea what to say. “Thank you,” he said with more gratitude than he could convey, though Marv nodded with a grin that said he understood.  
  
“You’re a good kid, Castiel. A great professor, and the best nephew a man could hope for.”  
  
Near to tears, Castiel stood up, hugging his uncle. “Thank you!”  
  
Marv hugged him back, sitting in his recliner with his cake. “I know I’m not the easiest person to be around. Like, even. But you and I have always had a special connection.”  
  
“Books,” Castiel grinned.  
  
“Hm!” Marv grinned pointing his fork at him. “See! That little box gave me more than I ever dreamed from one little word.”  
  
Castiel grinned down at his gifts. “I must tell you; I feel completely outdone this year. Your gift is so small by comparison.”  
  
“Please! You earned those gifts just decorating my house the past few years!”  
  
Castiel laughed at that, handing his uncle the box he had wrapped.  
  
With all the excitement of one of Santa’s elves, Marv sat his plate aside and took the box. He opened it and laughed. “What is this for?”  
  
“Well, it’s a bit selfish on my part, actually, but I bought you a camcorder in hopes that you would make some videos telling me about your travels and the things you have done before you settled down here. You can use it for whatever you’d like, of course, but I thought you might enjoy documenting some things.”  
  
Marv stared at him with a growing smile. “What a grand idea! Like a memoir!”  
  
Castiel nodded. “Or you could record your neighbors having loud sex.”  
  
“HA!” Marv laughed, sitting the box aside as his eyes lit up. “You shoulda heard them last night! I mean really, if you’re THAT loud, you’re overcompensating for SOMETHING.”  
  
Castiel laughed, staring down at his plane tickets. Two tickets to anywhere. He had no idea where they would take him, but he was excited about the prospect.  
  
After another cup of coffee, he left his uncle’s for his final stop for the day before curling up with his cats.  
  
  
  
****************************************  
  
  
  
Dean pulled the turkey out of the oven, sitting it on the stovetop. “Yeah, baby! That looks good enough to eat!”  
  
“Better be,” Bobby laughed, leaning forward in his chair to inspect the perfectly browned bird with stuffing puffing out of every conceivable crevice. “Now that can rest while the other stuff cooks.”  
  
Dean put the pan of green bean casserole, the pan of yams, and the extra stuffing into the oven, setting the timer. “One hour until bird time!”  
  
His dad came down the steps from his nap. “Damn, that smells good!”  
  
“You’re just in time ta set the table,” Bobby said, wheeling his chair back from the oven and putting John to work.  
  
Dean heard a car pull up and its door open and shut. “You expecting company, Bobby?”  
  
“Probably the kid from town. He said he’d be stopping in.”  
  
He heard steps on the porch and a knock on the door as he stepped into the hall. The door opened and a man stepped inside, blowing out a breath from the cold as he shut the door and pulled his hat off. “Hey, Bobby!”  
  
“Hey, kid!” Bobby yelled from the kitchen.  
  
Dean stood in the hall rooted to the spot. The voice was deeper and his build slightly bigger, but he’d know that face anywhere. Hat and gift in hand, he stood there staring at Dean in shock.  
  
Blue eyes, the color of Colorado skies. Hair messy. Skin perfect. He took a tentative step forward. “Dean?”  
  
A cascade of sensation fluttered down Dean’s spine. Memories of those hands on him, those arms around him, and those lips everywhere. The universe shuttered and Dean swore he felt it.  
  
Bobby wheeled into the hall, bumping his footrest into Dean’s ankle. “Hey, Cas. You’re just in time for dinner.”  
  
“Oh,” he said, fumbling with the hat in his hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just stopping by.”  
  
“Nonsense. Stay for dinner.”   
  
Dean stared down at Bobby in shock. THIS was the ‘kid from town’?  
  
Bobby gave him a knowing little grin. “I see you two remember each other.”  
  



	4. The Hot Summer Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to summer. What happened after that steamy kiss in the cellar?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra posting! It’s Christmas somewhere, right?!  
> This early posting is all because Shellz is the best beta EVER and is editing on holiday overtime!  
> Thank you Shellz!  
> (Also, little side note- I just upped this to 8 chapters because I just couldn’t stop myself!)  
> I’ll post again in the morning!

Chapter 4: The Hot Summer Moon  
  
  
July 3, 2009  
  
  
Dean ate half the lunch he normally did. He and Cas had not had a second alone since yesterday in the cellar. When Cas had left the night before, he had said goodnight like it was any other night, but Dean had felt like the stars had re-aligned and he had ‘I kissed Cas’ tattooed across his forehead.   
  
Today had been a long day of hulling strawberries and picking more. It was quiet work and all of them had spent the better part of the day on the porch surrounded by bushels of berries.  
  
“Bobby, if Cas isn’t busy, would you mind if he runs me on some errands. I wanna get Mom a birthday card and you need more propane.”  
  
“S fine with me,” Bobby shrugged. “Sam and I can get the old tent out.”  
  
“Can we camp by the birch?” Sam asked.  
  
“Wouldn’t be summer if we didn’t,” Bobby grinned.  
  
“Yes!” Sam said, excitedly telling Cas all about how they camped out a few times every summer. The more he talked, the more childish it seemed when Dean thought about it. Cas probably thought he was such a hick.  
  
Half an hour later, Cas pulled out of the farm, heading for town. Dean sat anxiously next to him in the passenger seat. He hoped he hadn’t pushed things too far by getting them some time alone. Cas may think the kiss was a one-time thing.  
  
“You are quite clever at finding ways to get me alone,” Cas said, grinning at the road ahead of him.  
  
“Well, figured I better work something out. Don’t want you thinking I’m scared of being alone with you.” He huffed a laugh, not knowing how the hell to act.  
  
Castiel licked his lips, glancing at him. He dropped one hand from the steering wheel, taking one of his to hold.  
  
Dean grinned like an idiot.  
  
Cas chuckled, squeezing it gently.  
  
“At the risk of sounding like a jerk,” Cas confessed, “I can’t mess up this internship with your uncle. It’s a lot of credits and I’m hoping to use it to get funding to start a project when I graduate.”  
  
Dean nodded. “No, I get it. I don’t wanna mess things up for you either. I figured...we could...ya know...I don’t know.”  
  
Cas glanced at him again, turning into a gas station. Dean’s heart raced in his chest as Cas pulled up to a pump and shut the engine off. He turned to Dean, one arm resting over the top of his steering wheel. “Dean, I swear I would ask you on a date but if Bobby finds out...”  
  
Dean’s mind shorted out as he grinned at him. He had to play this cool or Cas was going to get scared off and shut things down. “Oh yeah? And where would you take me?”  
  
Cas grinned, staring right into his friggin’ soul. “Dinner. A movie.”  
  
“Flowers?”  
  
Cas laughed. “You’re teasing me.”  
  
“No flowers?” Dean snorted. “Minus points for that.”  
  
Cas’ grin settled into something soft and beautiful that made Dean ache inside. “Flowers. And I’d walk you to your door and kiss you goodnight.”  
  
Dean wanted to tease back, but all he could do was picture the entire evening and that very perfect kiss at the end.  
  
Cas let his hand go. “I wouldn’t hide this from anyone. But when school is involved...”  
  
Dean nodded. “Yeah. It’s important. I get it, Cas. It’s okay.”  
  
Cas grinned again, his eyes dropping to Dean’s mouth. “I’ll be right back.” He got out, pumping gas.  
  
Dean tried to get himself together. It was like he had just discovered a new continent and couldn’t tell anyone about it. Not that his parents knew he was gay. But he’d tell them for Cas. He’d tell the world! But no, they had to keep this secret for now.  
  
Cas got back in.  
  
“Ya know, we could go to the movies.”  
  
“Without Sam?”  
  
Dean sighed. “Hey, he leaves for camp in a few days.”  
  
Cas grinned. “It’s a date then.”  
  
Dean stifled a giggle. “Okay.” Feeling giddy, he said, “I gotta buy propane.”  
  
They got the propane and his mom’s card, then Cas checked the library as they drove by it and made a stop at his uncle’s house.  
  
“Come on,” he said encouragingly. Dean followed him inside, his nerves all over the place.  
  
Cas glanced at his watch as the front door shut. “We have like ten minutes tops.”  
  
“Until what?” Dean asked.  
  
Cas put his hand on Dean’s chest, pressing him back against the door. “Until Marv comes home.”  
  
Dean blinked, he watched with mounting rapture as Cas stepped into his space. He’d never felt more alive than when Cas touched him and looked at him like he did. He gave him a flirty grin, gripping his chaotic nerves the best he could. “Better make it count then.”  
  
Cas chuckled right onto Dean’s lips, kissing him deep and sure, tongue sweeping in with such expertise that Dean wrapped his arms around him to hang on. He met every lick and joust, turning his head for more, tilting, and turning again. He gasped in the heavenly sensation of being pressed between a hard slab and Cas’ hard body. His jaw dropped again as Cas slotted a knee between his legs.  
  
That was new. Dean wanted to ride the damn thing until his eyes bulged out. But he kept his hip movements slow and shallow.   
  
Much too soon, Cas had pulled away. Dean let his pent-up frustrations go with a steady breath.  
  
“Am I the first guy you’ve been with?” Cas asked, still standing only a few inches away from him.  
  
Dean licked his lips. “Yeah.”  
  
“Have you been out with girls?”  
  
Dean hesitated, not wanting to answer any of these questions wrong and lose any of the momentum the two were building. “Yeah, but...”  
  
“How far did you go?” Cas asked, not looking perturbed, merely gaining information like asking about the growth stages of alfalfa.  
  
Dean swallowed. “Just some dates. Dances mostly. I kissed a few of them but that was it.”  
  
Cas nodded.  
  
Great. He might as well have a giant ‘virgin’ stamped on his forehead.  
  
“Does your family know?” Cas asked.  
  
Dean shook his head no. “But I’ll tell them,” he blurted. “I just haven’t...had any reason to. My options are pretty limited back home.”  
  
Cas nodded, something passing behind his eyes that Dean had no idea what meant or would mean.  
  
“Look, I know I’m gay, alright,” Dean went on. “It doesn’t freak me out or anything, but I just haven’t had the need to tell my parents or family. Guess it hasn’t come up.”  
  
Cas nodded. “I was in college before I was brave enough to tell my parents. And I had not been with anyone until then.” He reached up, caressing Dean’s cheek with that soft look he got. “It just means I need to take things a little slower, that’s all.”  
  
Dean pushed himself away from the door, his hands gripping Cas around the hips. “Does it look like I need to move slow?” He kissed Cas, pressing him back a step before he steadied himself, keeping the kiss going.  
  
They both grinned at that, but Dean detected a note of restraint in Cas that certainly had not been in their kiss in the cellar.  
  
Cas pulled back from the kiss, his hands sliding up to cup Dean’s head in his hands. “Just...stop me any time you need to. Ask questions. I just need you to know that I really like you, Dean. I don’t want to mess things up.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes, stepping out of Cas’ grasp. “I’m not fragile, Cas. If I wanna know something, I’ll ask. And the only way I can think that you could mess this up is if you wanna stand around and talk every time we get a few minutes alone instead of making out.” His cheeks were burning and he felt incredibly frustrated with more than just Cas not kissing him. His irritation stumbled when Cas looked down at the floor, grinning hard. “What’s so funny?”  
  
Cas sighed, their eyes meeting again, his full of laughter while Dean stared at him hard.  
  
“My apologies.” Cas leaned in, kissing him hard, Dean backing into the door again, arms wrapping around his neck as he worked to keep pace with Cas. These kisses were demanding and deep. Dean’s entire body lit up in response. Yes. This was the fired-up Cas he was looking for. And holy mother of all...he could kiss! Cas stopped abruptly, his eyes lifting to look over Dean’s head at the door. “Marv is home.”  
  
“See?” Dean panted, straightening his shirt. “You coulda been in my pants by now.” He blushed with a laugh as Cas laughed as well.  
  
“Come on, and,” he gripped the doorknob, his lips a breath away from Dean’s, “when I’m ready to get in your pants, it won’t be ten minutes before my uncle is due home.”  
  
Dean flushed all over. “Right.”  
  
  
  
*****************************  
  
  
  
July 7, 2009  
  
  
Dean swatted a buzzing something away from his ear as he lay draped in the tire swing, feet skimming the surface of the water below him.  
  
“That’s a bee!” Cas said excitedly, from the water where he was bobbing along the weak current, Sam a few feet away.  
  
Dean cocked one eye open, smirking at him. “Oh boy.”  
  
“It IS exciting,” Cas said with a note of authority.  
  
“Is it one of your bees?” Sam asked, following him up the bank.   
  
“Maybe.”  
  
Dean watched as the two came closer to him, eyes wandering in search of the bee. Dean fought a grin as the pair searched high and low, Dean waving the annoying thing away again. “If it lands on me, I’m killing it.”  
  
Cas’ jaw dropped in shock. “No! And it won’t sting you.”  
  
Dean, hearing buzzing again, ducked his head, squinting. “Well, remind him or I’ll -”  
  
“There!” Sam shouted, the pair wandering away as the bee sought something more nourishing than Dean.  
  
Dean looked toward the trail, hearing Bobby calling them. He waved when Bobby crested the hill.  
  
“Whatcha need?” Dean called.  
  
“Time for Sam to get a shower if he still wants to go to the auction with me.”  
  
“I’m comin’!” Sam called, wading across the water, and climbing up the bank where they left their clothes.  
  
“Sure you boys don’t wanna come?” Bobby asked.  
  
Dean dropped his head back on the tire. “HibitiyabitahibitayabitaSOLD! The lazy kid in the tire wins the night off!”  
  
Bobby chuckled. “Suit yourself. Cas?”  
  
“No, thank you.”  
  
Bobby nodded and the pair left.  
  
Dean grinned over at Cas. “Looks like it’s just you and me, city-boy.”  
  
Cas waded into the water, pushing on the side of the tire swing gently. “You gonna show me something new, farm boy?”  
  
Dean grinned wide. “Oh, you’re the educated one. Figured you could teach me a thing or two.”  
  
Cas smiled back, leaning down to place a kiss just above his belly button. “I’ve been looking at this skin for the past two hours, just wishing I could touch it.” He ran a wet hand over Dean’s abs, making him suck in a breath from more than just the cold water. Cas leaned against the tire, his head resting on one of the ropes as he traced his fingers around his abs and ribs with a lazy grin.  
  
Dean half closed his eyes. “You could do that all day.”  
  
He dripped droplets of water, watching as they ran across Dean’s skin. “Your freckles are so cute.”  
  
Dean scoffed. “I am not cute.”  
  
Cas grinned a little harder. “And if I say you are?”  
  
Dean licked his lips wishing he could do the same to Cas. “Then I’m not doing something right.”  
  
Cas frowned, shaking his head. “You’ve done everything right. It’s just...sometimes you are pretty cute about it.”  
  
“If you lean down here, I’ll give ya a cute little kiss.”  
  
Cas glanced toward the path to be sure Bobby and Sam were gone. He turned back with the same eager look he got every day when the two of them went down to the cellar to stir the strawberries in the crocks.   
  
He stepped back and sat back into the water with a teasing grin. “You’ll have to come get it.”  
  
Dean tipped out of the tire swing with practiced ease and swam over to Cas, sweeping right into his arms and into a kiss. They both grinned and kissed, making up for all the little looks they had shared over the past few days.   
  
Evening was starting to set in, and they eventually got out of the water to lay in the fading sun and dry off.  
  
“You could shower at the house,” Dean offered, not wanting Cas to leave.  
  
“I better not,” Cas grinned.  
  
“Ya know, you could stay over. We could camp, or sleep in the barn, or I could stay over at Marv’s. It wouldn’t seem weird that the two of us would hang out.”  
  
Cas rolled over, going up onto his elbow to grin down at him. “We are not ready for an all-nighter.”  
  
Dean shook his head gently. “You think I’m too innocent or whatever, Cas. But I’m not. And...I really wanna...”  
  
“What?” Cas asked, searching his eyes.  
  
Dean blushed hard. It drove him nuts that Cas made him talk so much. “I wanna try more.”  
  
Cas grinned, kissing him chastely. He gasped when Cas swung a leg over him and straddled him in the grass. Dean grinned, liking this very much. Cas kissed him slow and deep then moved on to something Dean had never done, kissing not just his mouth...but his neck and ears and chest and a few tongue sweeps over his nipples that had Dean ready to launch off the ground. He lay there like a live wire, feeling every kiss and lick in high definition. The way Cas stroked and squeezed, the sweet things he said between kisses, and how he lightly clawed his skin was almost more than he could take.  
  
“Cas,” Dean whispered, grinning at how the simplest utterance had Cas at full attention, hovering over him.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I wanna trade spots.”  
  
Cas grinned, diving down for a kiss and rolled the pair over with a laugh. Dean straddled him, staring down with all the curiosity of a virgin and all the want of a full-grown man. He had never really thought people talked while they kissed. But Cas did. It was a slow litany of praises that had Dean feeling better than he’d ever felt before.   
  
Now, he leaned down, kissing Cas, taking the lead, and feeling so nervous as he did so. But he soon lost himself in the taste of Cas’ skin. The way it made him move beneath him when he swirled his tongue on his neck or nipped at the skin. He spent a lifetime teasing and licking his nipples until Cas was rhythmically rocking into him.  
  
Dean went up onto his hands, staring down at Cas. He didn’t want to be in the lead anymore. He was unsure of what to do with the worked-up man beneath him.  
  
Cas sat up, wrapping his arms around Dean, and kissed him hard. “What can I do?” Cas asked, searching his eyes in the moonlight. They must have been kissing for hours.  
  
Dean bit his bottom lip, well aware of the hard cock he straddled and the one he himself had.   
  
“Oral?” Cas asked, his breath puffing.  
  
Oh fuck. Dean wanted it more than he understood it and he definitely was unprepared to reciprocate.  
  
“Or I could -”  
  
“Oral,” Dean cut him off, stunned he was actually about to do this.  
  
Cas grinned, kissing him. “I promise you’ll like it,” he whispered, turning so Dean was on his back in the grass. He watched in the gray moonlight as Cas pulled his boxers off and then removed his own.  
  
Cas groaned at the sight of Dean’s dick, stroking it with a knowing grin.  
  
“Oh my god,” Dean gasped, digging his fingers into the grass.  
  
“Feels so different when someone else does it,” Cas grinned down at him, knowingly.  
  
“So fucking different!” Dean gasped. He reached up to feel Cas’, stroking slowly and running a finger smoothly up the long length.  
  
He smiled at the shiver it elicited from Cas. He stroked a little more confidently until Cas backed away, his sights set on Dean’s dick.  
  
“Important thing to remember is, no teeth,” Cas said, grinning up at him as he settled between Dean’s legs.  
  
Dean’s jaw dropped as Cas licked a wide stripe up Dean’s thick shaft. “And warn me before you come.”  
  
Dean nodded, watching in awe as Cas engulfed him into the wet heat of his mouth. He gasped as his mouth did things his body had never felt before. His hands shook as he half sat up, seeing the long lines of Cas’ back and his plump, round ass cheeks in the moonlight.   
  
Cas not only sucked his dick like it were something worth worshiping. His hands kneaded the flesh of his thighs and hips, stroking and pressing, distracting and so all-consuming that Dean was sure his heart was going to burst.  
  
“Cas,” Dean panted. “It’s so good...so...” words were lost as the moon shone down and the crickets chirped. Frogs sang their little river songs and the wind barely moved the long grass around them.  
  
Dean fought to keep his hips still as the muscles in his thighs began to quiver. Cas began sucking in a faster rhythm and Dean knew he wouldn’t last much longer.  
  
“Cas!”  
  
Cas doubled his efforts with a loud moan and Dean threw his head back as the world disappeared leaving only his body and Castiel’s, the surge of need and heat barreling to a crescendo.  
  
“Cas, I’m gonna -”  
  
Cas pulled off as the first explosion of euphoria slammed into Dean, his hips rocking up as Cas took over with his hand, stroking him through wave after wave as cum erupted everywhere.  
  
Shocked and in a daze, Dean stared down at Cas who was wiping cum off his chin with grin.  
  
Dean panted, dropping back to the grass. “Holy SHIT.”  
  
Cas chuckled as he moved to lay beside him. The lightest touch had Dean gasping. His nerves alight with sensitivity he had never known before.   
  
As the sounds of summer came back to him, the moon a bright white ball in the black night, he turned to see Cas laying on his side, watching him with a satisfied grin.  
  
“That was awesome,” Dean laughed, aware suddenly of his nakedness and how he had an orgasm and the sounds he had made.  
  
Cas traced little lines on his chest, looking at every inch of him with eager eyes.  
  
“How do people have lives? Why don’t they just lay around and have sex all the time?”  
  
Cas laughed. “We would get hungry eventually.”  
  
Dean laughed, his high subsiding slowly as he turned on his side to face Cas. “You’re really good at that.”  
  
Cas grinned. “I love seeing you move like that.”  
  
Dean was a little shocked at the rush of want that tugged at him so soon after the best feeling in the world had so recently swallowed him whole. He glanced down at Cas’ dick, still hard. “Oh...okay...just, um...tell me what to do.”  
  
“You don’t have to do anything, Dean,” Cas grinned.  
  
Shocked at leaving Cas with nothing after what he had just felt, he shook his head no. “Are you kidding? I want to!” He looked down at the thick length as he wrapped his fingers around it. His mouth watered just thinking about it. “I REALLY want to.”  
  
Cas lay back, watching him as he moved between Cas’ legs, staring down at...everything, with no restrictions. He looked up, meeting Cas’ eyes in the night.   
  
Cas gave him an encouraging grin as Dean bent to lick the head. Skin. Slightly salty and so good Dean’s mouth watered anew. He angled the penis upright and licked from the bottom to the top, looking at Cas who had just made a little noise of pleasure.  
  
Oh yeah. He liked this a lot.  
  
He licked several more stripes up the shaft before fitting the head and a few inches into his mouth.  
  
Cas sat up, breathing a little heavier. “That’s good, Dean. So good.”  
  
A wash of pleasure ran through Dean so hard he rocked back, the dick falling from his mouth. He pressed up onto his hands and kissed Cas deep. He left Cas with a wide grin as he bent again, putting the dick back into his mouth.  
  
“Just...kind of feel it with your mouth,” Cas said softly.  
  
Dean worked his lips and tongue, his teeth bumping down on the ridge of his head. “Wawy,” he grinned, mouth still full.  
  
Cas chuckled. “It’s okay. Just, slide your tongue around a little and then suck as you pull back.”  
  
Dean slid his tongue along the silky, soft skin. He preened inside as Cas moaned softly. He undulated his tongue and sucked, dragging his mouth back and off the head. It wasn’t quite right, but Cas liked it anyway. He tried again and again, finding he could slide more and more of it into his mouth. He stopped coming all the way off and found the suction easier when he stayed on, sliding up and down a little.  
  
“That’s so good,” Cas whispered, Dean almost forgetting the rest of Cas’ body was attached to the penis he was sucking. “Now,” Cas panted, “just find a rhythm.”  
  
Dean nodded, sliding down a bit further and back to the head. Like the rhythm of a song, one and two and one and two, up and down and up and down.  
  
“Like we’re having sex,” Cas whispered, “like a rocking boat that begins to move faster and faster.”  
  
Dean paused, licking again, and changing his hand placement. So...if his mouth was getting fucked, it would feel like...He rocked down and up, down and up.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Cas moaned.  
  
Finding his rhythm, he rocked and rocked, knowing his own ass was up in the air for the moon and the whole world to see.  
  
“So good, Dean. A little faster.”  
  
Dean groaned, picturing Cas fucking his moon lit ass faster, faster, a little faster.  
  
“That’s it!” Cas gasped. “God, you’re gorgeous. So good, Dean! So good!”  
  
Dean felt Cas’ cock swell and he tasted salty precome, making him moan around the cock in his mouth, diving deeper than ever as Cas’ body tightened around him.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, Dean, I’m gonna come!”  
  
Dean sucked one more time as Cas reached in and stroked himself a few quick strokes and cum shot up between them. He felt it land in his hair and drip onto his cheek. He watched as Cas bore a look of heat so intense as his jaw grit and he moaned, coming more. “Fuck,” Cas whispered, slowing to a stop and panting.  
  
Dean waited on hands and knees, watching as the hard ecstasy faded to bliss and then to peace on Cas’ face.  
  
His eyes opened, meeting Dean’s.  
  
“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Dean said, his voice ragged.  
  
Cas grinned crookedly.  
  
Dean walked his hands and knees up Cas’ body as he lay back in the grass. He kissed him, laying on top of him as their cum stained both their skin. He felt Cas wipe the cum off his face, kissing him so deep and hard Dean thought he surely had fallen into an ocean of Cas.  
  
They lay there together in the grass, whispering of how they could sneak away together for the rest of the summer.  
  
They walked back to the house, arms around each other and dressed. Bobby still wasn’t back, and the house was dark.  
  
“You wanna come in? You could get a shower,” Dean said softly, running one palm down Cas’ chest.  
  
“No. I should go. But Sam leaves for camp in the morning, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean nodded.  
  
“So, I’ll see you in the morning.” He kissed Dean so fully that he swore his toes curled.  
  
Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s, his arms still wrapped around him.  
  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter, words pounding in his ears until they fell right out of his mouth.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Cas’ body stilled.  
  
Dean lifted his head, their eyes meeting in the orange light of the porch. Cas’ eyes were dark and thinking.  
  
“You don’t have to say anything,” Dean said quickly, “I just...”  
  
Cas tipped his head, kissing Dean again. He pulled back, studying him again. “I love you too.”  
  
Dean wasn’t a hundred percent sure Cas actually meant it. But most of him just took it for what it was.  
  
They were in love.  
  
  
******************************************  
  
  
July 15, 2009  
  
  
Castiel ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, fisting the silky strands to set a steady rhythm as Dean sucked his cock.  
  
He was getting markedly better at this. Less teeth, and taking more of him, though he did still gag a lot, making them both laugh.  
  
Dean was so different from anyone he had ever been with. He was incredibly eager, so sweet, and loved him. Loved him. Like hearts in his eyes and dopey grins, love.  
  
Castiel loved him back, but he knew it was off balance. Everything about them was off balance. Dean was too young for a love like this. This was a crush. An infatuation that would die the minute he wasn’t around to sustain it. Dean was using him as a summer fling because that’s what high schoolers did. He wanted this to be more. He wanted to make this more than sneaking around. But Dean had already joked about how fun it was to sneak away to the cellar to ‘stir the wine crocks’ or head out to the barn to ‘wipe the combine down’. Bobby truly seemed clueless and even gave them time to be alone, telling them to go swim or go to town or he’d leave for town or a friend’s and leave them there. Alone. Dean had been right. They weren’t supervised by anyone because they were just two guys hanging out.  
  
Meanwhile, Dean was on his knees in the cellar with Cas’ cock stuffed back his throat like a fucking porn star. Every time they were alone, the pair were kissing, groping, jerking each other off, or this. Dean was insatiable and Cas was more than happy to teach, teach, teach.  
  
“So good at this,” Cas panted, groaning as Dean slid his hands around his hips and gripped his ass.  
  
Cas gasped; his knees weak as he slumped against the stone wall behind the row of wine crocks. The cellar had a sweet, cool, earthy smell that Castiel loved.  
  
But the smell of the cellar was far from his realm of awareness. He wanted to fuck Dean so bad it gave him wet dreams at night. And with the daily occurrence of bringing each other to climax, he was skirting closer and closer to doing so. Feeling Dean’s hands on his ass was a trigger he found hard to ignore, but he fought it.   
  
He opened his eyes, pulling Dean’s head off of his cock.   
  
Dean licked his lips, panting. “I wanna swallow. Don’t pull me off.”  
  
Cas let his hair go, his head tipping back as Dean sunk his mouth around his cock again, humming around it. Cas looked down at him again, on his dirty knees on the earthen floor, jeans around his thighs as his hard cock swung heavy, shirt tossed, and arms up stretched with his hands kneading his ass cheeks. Cas’ heavy-lidded eyes took stock of how Dean’s jeans rubbed against his ass each time he bobbed down. The rhythm and the little groaning, sucking sounds on his cock, and the very thought of Dean choking him down, let alone swallowing had him gasping, clasping both hands over his own mouth as he came hard.   
  
Dean tried. He did. But he ended up gaging and pulling off, cum painting his face instead.  
  
“Sorry,” Dean panted, stifling another gag. “Dammit. I really wanted to. I did swallow the first time.”  
  
Cas, teetering on a high, dropped to his knees, pushing Dean onto the ground to kiss him hard. “You’re so good at that!”  
  
Dean grinned. “I am not.”  
  
“You are, Dean. So good.” Cas shoved his jeans the rest of the way off, a risk when Bobby could come down the steps, but the guy was working on his tractor and Cas was sure they were good for at least twenty more minutes. “So good for me,” Cas babbled on, nipping big, sloppy kisses down Dean’s neck, chest, and abs. “On your knees, your dirty knees.”  
  
Dean groaned. “You like me down on my knees, Cas?”  
  
“God, yes.”  
  
Dean rolled his hips up into him in long groan. “I’ll get on my knees any time for you, Cas. Anywhere.”  
  
Cas groaned at the very thought. He shoved a t-shirt under Dean’s ass and gobbled him down, making Dean jerk up into him, making Cas groan even louder.  
  
“L-learning from the best,” Dean gasped.  
  
Cas slid his hands under Dean’s ass cheeks, kneading them. He always touched him while sucking his cock. Rubbed, teased, softly scratched his thighs, his abs, his hips, but today they were in ass territory.  
  
New territory.  
  
Dean swirled his hips at the touch to his ass cheeks, making Cas groan again.  
  
“You like my ass?” Dean grinned, his fingers sliding into Cas’ hair.  
  
Castiel pulled off of Dean’s cock, letting it smack down on his stomach with a wet thunk. “You have no idea,” Castiel growled.  
  
Dean held his gaze, licking his lips, his eyes searching Cas’ face.  
  
Cas went back to sucking his cock and Dean lay back on the floor again, his fingers scratching lightly at his scalp as Cas’ head moved up and down.   
  
He kneaded his fingers, his thumbs sweeping gently out and out just inches from Dean’s hole. “Can I touch you?” He asked, licking a stripe up Dean’s cock.  
  
“You’re already -” Dean cut himself off, licking his lips. “Oh...um, yeah.”  
  
Cas narrowed his eyes, his thumbs sweeping just a tad closer. “Maybe next time.”  
  
“No, no,” Dean frowned. “I’m just not...I’m pretty nervous about...that.”  
  
Cas relaxed. He always encouraged Dean to ask questions at any time, though he rarely did. Dean was quiet, he was learning. There was so much more to him than gorgeous eyes and slender hips. He was smart and funny, and Cas wanted to be with him every minute of the night and day.  
  
Cas smiled at him. “No penetration. I just want to see if you like being touched there.”  
  
“Well, I’m a gay guy,” Dean grinned wobbly, “I’ll learn to like it one way or another, right?”  
  
Cas cleared his throat. “No. Not all gay men like penetration. You like what you like. Plenty of couples never have penetrative sex. Or they are the ones that do the penetrating.”  
  
Dean licked his lips, listening raptly. “I...”  
  
“We can keep this all about the cocks,” Cas grinned, giving him an out and licking a tiny lick along his shaft. “I would never pressure you for more. I just thought -”  
  
“Do it,” Dean said. “I want to. I just...I’m kinda shy about it.”  
  
Cas grinned, getting back into position. “Just touching. You can decide more later.”  
  
Dean lay back again, releasing a slow breath. It was so much trust that Cas marveled again at how amazing this all felt between them. He went back to slowly, deeply sucking Dean down, his thumbs massaging ever so gently near his hole. As Dean relaxed, he increased his speed and swept the pad of one thumb over the tightly furled opening, moaning into Dean’s gasp. He did it again and again as Dean’s thighs began to shake. He moaned kept a light circling massage going as his other hand moved to stroke along his perineum and cup his balls.  
  
Dean began rocking his hips, his knees spreading further as a whine of pleasure began.  
  
Cas sped up, massaging harder as he tasted precome. “Mmhmmm,” he coaxed around him as Dean ground a little harder and panted out loud.  
  
He pressed harder, almost breaching the hole as Dean arched up into him, coming down his throat, crying out loud as his hands gripped his hair tightly. He removed his hands, sucking him through several waves until the semen was gone and Dean tugged at him to stop.  
  
He kissed his softening dick, up his abs, and over his chest until he landed on his neck with a few open-mouthed kisses, Dean squirming and laughing beneath him, clutching him closer.  
  
“Shit,” Dean gasped. “That was...that felt...crazy good.”  
  
Cas smiled down on him, kissing him chastely.  
  
“I love you,” Dean sighed, his eyes slipping shut.  
  
“I love you too,” he whispered back, meaning it. Knowing this insanely hot summer love was going to kill him someday.  
  
  
After lunch, they began the third phase of making wine. Castiel followed Bobby and Dean’s directions, finding the whole process a lot of fun. He and Dean had been stirring the crocks, among other things, every day, and today they added the sugar.  
  
Bobby had a huge metal bowl on the counter with a double layer of cheesecloth clamped tight over it. Dean and Cas lifted the heavy crocks together to pour the strawberry mash and juice slowly into it. Bobby scooped the excess strawberry pulp into an awaiting bucket as they poured slow and steady.  
  
When the crock was empty, they sat it aside for Cas to scrub while Bobby added sugar by the pound as Dean stirred it until it dissolved.  
  
The pair poured the sugary mixture back into the crock and he and Dean put it back into place on the shelf.  
  
“Well, that’s a whole lot easier with three people than just me and you,” Bobby grinned, washing the bowl.  
  
Dean exchanged a soft grin with Cas as they reached for the next crock to bring to Bobby.  
  
“Now just six more ta go.”  
  
“How long do they sit like this?” Cas asked.  
  
“Need stirred every day for another week. Then we pour ‘em inta gallon jugs,” he pointed to the shelves that ran along one wall holding rows of empty, dusty bottles. “We put a cork in ‘em loosely, then they sit right there for three months fermenting and bubbling.”  
  
“Then what?” Castiel asked, tipping the next crock with Dean’s help.  
  
“Then my whole family comes for a long weekend in October. When they stop bubbling and the liquid is clear, they’re ready for real wine bottles.” Dean nodded to the side room that held row after row of wine bottles, all dated and marked with labels that read, ‘Singer’s Strawberry Wine’.  
  
“They gotta age a year before they’re ready to drink,” Bobby added, scooping another mound of pulp off the cloth to add to the bucket with a splat.  
  
“Do you sell them?” Cas asked.  
  
“Sure do. On the internet. And at the local markets.”  
  
Cas exchanged a grin with Dean as he took the second crock to start washing it.   
  
“I have a bottle of wine for every year since I was born,” Dean grinned proudly.  
  
“Gonna be a damn good host with all that wine,” Bobby laughed. “Or a hell of a 21st birthday.”  
  
Dean laughed. “And tonight we have our annual summer crab legs, corn on the cob, and sangria.”  
  
“Yes, we do,” Bobby grinned. “Got the big pot on the stove already. And Jody, Donna, and Jody’s foster daughter Alex, are coming over. Ellen, Bill, and Jo too. Soon as we’re done here, I gotta run ta town ta pick up the crab I ordered.”  
  
Castiel watched as Dean stirred the mixture until all the sugar was dissolved. He didn’t just love Dean. He loved this life. The farm. Making wine. The small town.  
  
It was too bad it all couldn’t last.  
  
  
  
**********************************************  
  
  
  
August 11, 2009  
  
  
Dean pulled his best fitting jeans on and finger-combed his hair in the mirror on the wall of his and Sam’s bedroom. He and Cas had been talking about tonight for over a week now. He had been asking for longer, but Cas was driving him crazy by putting the brakes on the next step in their relationship. They had both gotten much braver about using fingers, opening each other and he could have sworn several times Cas was so deep inside him that he found his prostate. That’s what Cas said felt so good, if you hit that magic button enough, you could come. All he knew was, he wanted more than Cas’ fingers. While that had been insane the first few times they did it, he was well aware that there was so much more.  
  
And besides, he wanted nothing more than to have Cas buried inside him AND kiss him at the same time. It was going to be fucking epic.  
  
He and Cas spent most of their evenings at Marv’s. The guy was kooky and friendly, and usually talked their ears off about something before they managed to slip away to Cas’ room and ‘play video games’.  
  
But tonight they had the birch to themselves. Bobby and Sam were going to the movies and eating at the Roadhouse. So he and Cas had the perfect night to be alone. He trotted down the steps, grabbing a few sodas and some water for the little cooler he had packed. He grabbed his fishing pole and headed out the screen door, the familiar thwack it made as it closed, never even registering in his ears. All he saw was Cas. He was talking to Bobby, who was standing there with a thin binder in his hands. Inside were the pages of Cas’ report.  
  
He and Cas exchanged a quick grin, Cas’ eye dipping appreciatively at Dean’s state of being cleaned up and dressed nice for once. Nice being a not-ripped flannel over his not-ripped t-shirt and his not-too-ripped jeans.  
  
Cas moved beside Bobby, pointing at a spot on his report. Dean knew it was his bee thesis because he was around when Cas worked on it in his room from time to time.  
  
“It’s very exciting,” Cas went on. “The most prevalent bee in this area is the western honey bee. But they do poorly pollinating alfalfa. I think the root of the problem is that the western honey bee, while it does well with the cold winters, they are actually quite sensitive to touch. When they pollinate the alfalfa blossoms, the pollen is rubbed onto their head as they extract the nectar. And they’re fine with that! BUT, the next step, as they get nectar from the next alfalfa blossom, they trip the keel and it bumps their head, collecting the nectar.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Bobby said, looking as lost as everyone else.  
  
“The western honey bees, I believe, are sensitive to this. They avoid it and as they mature and become experienced, they come at the blossom from the side! So, pollination never occurs!”  
  
“Huh,” Bobby squinted.  
  
“So,” he pointed at another page of the lengthy report, “all the mature bees aren’t helping, only the youngest. They’re incredibly smart!”   
  
“Uh huh,” Bobby nodded, still staring at the report.  
  
“So, THAT seems to be the issue sustaining western honey bees. My hypothesis, thus, is to introduce a bee species that does not mind the head knocking. And all my research tells me it should be the leafcutter bees. Particularly the Megachile Rotundata.”  
  
“Sounds big,” Bobby said, getting a funny grin on his face.  
  
“Not especially. Here’s a photo. There are some around here, but I believe introducing more, in some critical placements, could really increase the bee population AND improve alfalfa crops.”  
  
Bobby closed the report. “This is very impressive, Cas. When do you start a hive?”  
  
“You would be willing to let me try it?” Cas asked excitedly.   
  
“Sure. Can’t hurt, right?”  
  
“Right,” Cas agreed excitedly. “Well, it would be best to build the actual hives and let them weather, then add the colony in early spring. Preferably when crops will be just blooming, giving them an instant and easy food source.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan. You figure out when and where and I’ll order what needs ordered.”  
  
“Thank you so much, Bobby. I really appreciate this opportunity.”  
  
“Hey, whatever floats your boat. And I do understand the importance of bees, so, glad to do my part.”  
  
“Wow, that’s so cool, Cas!” Sam grinned from where he sat perched on the tractor tire eating a huge wedge of watermelon, the juice running down his arms and dripping from his elbows.  
  
“I’ll keep this for my farm records,” Bobby said, lifting the report.  
  
Dean couldn’t stop grinning. Especially when Cas was looking so adorably, nerdishly excited. He followed Cas over to his car. “Told you he would like it.”  
  
Cas nodded. “He really did! And you were right, he’s letting me start a hive!”  
  
Dean leaned against the door of Cas’ car, watching as he got his fishing pole and tackle box out of the backseat. Dean eyed the box. They had planned today out very carefully, and he knew exactly what was inside the gray tackle box.   
  
Cas gave him the slightest hint of a nervous smile, Dean blushing back as he turned to see Bobby coming back out of the house.  
  
“Gather up, boys. I wanna get a picture of the three of you. I keep meaning to and summer’ll be over before ya know it.”  
  
Dean hated hearing those words. As friggin’ epic as the summer was, every day that slipped by reminded him of his biggest fear. September. When Cas would leave and their perfect paradise of a life would be over.  
  
They walked over to where Sam sat as he wiped his forearms on his pants. “Why don’t you wanna come see GIJoe anymore?” Sam asked.  
  
“It’s a kid’s movie,” Dean huffed, not wanting Cas to think he was interested in a kids movie like GIJoe.  
  
“You were excited about it when we saw the previews for it! Now you’re too cool.” Sam gave him a disappointed smirk. “Bet if Cas went, you would go.”  
  
Dean glared at him. Sam had definitely noticed how distracted he had been, since he had come back from camp. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in what his brother was doing. He just had so many new interests of his own. Like learning how to give a blowjob.   
  
Cas gave him a knowing little smile, Dean rolling his eyes.   
  
“You can tell me all about it tonight,” Dean offered. He did want to see it. It did look cool. But he had way better things to look forward to tonight.  
  
“Alright,” Sam shrugged.  
  
Dean glanced at Cas, who took a step up beside him, pole and tackle box in hand.  
  
“Look here, boys!” Bobby grinned, taking a few pictures. He tucked his camera into his pocket. “Hey Sam, you better get cleaned up.”  
  
“Okay,” Sam said, jumping off the tire, heading inside.  
  
Bobby walked up to the pair of them, studying them both with a narrowed look. “You two goin’ fishin?”  
  
“Yeah,” they both answered, worry tripping hard inside Dean at the more than curious look on Bobby’s face. His keen eyes took in every detail, making Dean regret his clothing choices.  
  
“You two been fishing a lot lately.”  
  
“Yeah,” they both nodded, striving for nonchalance.  
  
“Ya never catch anything,” Bobby noted, his eyes darting back and forth between the two.  
  
Dean, flustered at his uncle’s sudden questioning, was stunned when Cas grinned and said, “Dean doesn’t much care to catch anything. He mostly sits there watches the water and tells me about cars or home or college.” He shrugged his shoulders with a guilty little smile. “And I just suck at it.”  
  
Dean nodded. “He does.”  
  
Bobby nodded, not looking too convinced. “Don’t suppose if I check that tackle box, I’ll find pot in there.”  
  
Shocked, Dean frowned. “No, Bobby!”  
  
Cas looked terrified. “I would never smoke pot on your property.”  
  
Bobby’s eyes narrowed a little further. “I jus’ don’t want you boys gettin’ inta any trouble.”  
  
“No, sir!” Cas stammered.  
  
“Aw great, you’re back to ‘sir’ and ‘Mr. Singer’ now,” Dean snorted.  
  
Bobby rolled his eyes. “Jus’ checkin’ in. It’s my job.”  
  
“You want me to come along?” Dean asked, worrying Bobby was irritated with all his disappearing.  
  
“No,” Bobby chuckled. “But just so you know, I can smell pot a mile away.”  
  
Dean shook his head, lifting his hands with an easy grin. “Just fishing, Bobby.”  
  
Sam came out of the house with a clean shirt on. He barely glanced at Dean before getting into Bobby’s truck. And he didn’t look at Cas at all.  
  
“Come on,” Dean said, heading up the well beaten path toward the river.  
  
They walked quietly until they were almost there.  
  
“Bobby knows something is up,” Cas said.  
  
Dean nodded. “Guess we can’t ‘fish’ or ‘play video games’ every night.”  
  
“I don’t want him to think I’m being disrespectful,” Cas worried aloud.  
  
Dean stopped as he crested the hill. There was a blanket and a bag by the water. He turned to Cas. “Did you do this?”  
  
Cas let his worry go as he put an arm around Dean and kissed him. “Yes. I wanted to make things nice.”  
  
Dean fought a ridiculous grin, kissing him back eagerly before pulling back. “Did you get what we needed?”  
  
“Yes.” Cas lifted the tackle box. “I about pissed my pants when he mentioned looking in my tackle box!”  
  
Dean laughed, tugging Cas by the hand until they both sat on the soft blanket. “Me too!”  
  
Cas sat the tackle box in front of them and Dean opened it. It looked like it always did with little sections divided for hooks and worms, and bait, and spinners. But in the larger part lay a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.  
  
“Why are we using protection now?” Dean asked. “We’ve never used any all summer.”  
  
Cas gave him a guilty look. “I know I’m clean and I assume you are too since I’m the only person you have ever been with. But we should have. You should always, in the future.”  
  
“You are the only one for me, Cas. I’ll never need to get tested because you’re the only man I’ll ever be with.”  
  
Cas gave him a gentle smile, pulling him into a kiss. Dean melted inside. He could never love anyone else this much. It might not make sense in the real world, but here at Bobby’s, they were a perfect fit. What Cas didn’t know, he did, and visa versa.   
  
He kissed him wild and free. There was nothing in the world the two of them couldn’t handle together. His entire future made sense. The details would fill in and he could consider himself a very lucky man. He knew he was lucky to have found the love of his life so fast and so easily.   
  
The tackle was spilled at some point, hooks and lures spilling into the grass as bare feet tangled together and spread apart.  
  
The last of the season’s fireflies came bobbing out as dusk set in, giving everything a magical, romantic glow. They lay together for a long time laughing and touching and talking about Cas’ bees and what truck Dean could buy. As the conversation lulled, Cas fell into a quiet moment, watching as his fingers traced along Dean’s bare chest and abs.  
  
“You know I wanna do this, right?” Dean said quietly.  
  
Cas turned to him, a little smile tugging one corner of his mouth. “Me too.”  
  
Dean licked his lips, taking the first steps because Cas had been dragging this out. He unbuttoned his jeans, inching out of them until they lay in the grass. He had foregone boxers altogether. “Cas, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”  
  
Cas huffed a little laugh. “Oh, Dean, I want to. Badly. For weeks now. I just don’t want you to regret it.”  
  
Dean sat up, kissing Cas. “I know what I want, Cas. I don’t wanna wait.” He kissed him a little more desperately. “I want you. So bad.”  
  
Cas kissed him back a bit more fervently.  
  
“I don’t wanna wait. I don’t know how many more chances we’ll get before...”  
  
“I know,” Cas said, soothing him, stroking his hands over Dean’s hair, laying him back on the blanket. “I’m just worried that -”  
  
“Please,” Dean whispered between kisses that bit at Cas’ lip, teased his tongue. “You want me to beg?”  
  
“No,” Cas huffed with a grin. “No, I’m going to make this special.”  
  
Dean wanted to point dramatically to the insanely romantic setting they were in, his desperate heart, his needy cock. But Cas got the gist, kissing him so deep and hard his head was spinning as he unbuttoned Cas’ pants between them, pushing them down.  
  
By the time he was ready for Cas, it was dark and the stars had taken place of the fireflies, providing a beautiful canopy above Castiel’s head as he knelt between him, condom on to ease the slide, he explained.  
  
Tears ran down his cheeks when they finally moved together. Not from pain. From the utter potency of first love that was given to him so tenderly that he knew his life had changed forever.  
  
They made love under the hot August moon, kissing and rocking until they both climaxed.   



	5. My Biggest Fear, When He Had To Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to what we’ve been waiting for...Castiel walking into Bobby’s house.

Chapter 5: My Biggest Fear, When He Had to Go  
  
  
December 25, 2019  
  
  
Dean stood absolutely frozen in the hallway of Bobby’s house.  
  
Cas was here.  
  
Here!  
  
Just...standing there looking as stunned as he was.  
  
Bobby wheeled into the hall, bumping his footrest into Dean’s ankle. “Hey, Cas. You’re just in time for dinner.”  
  
“Oh,” he said, fumbling with the hat in his hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just stopping by.”  
  
“Nonsense. Stay for dinner.”   
  
Dean stared down at Bobby in shock. THIS was the ‘kid from town’?  
  
Bobby gave him a knowing little grin. “I see you two remember each other.”  
  
Dean’s eyes lifted back to meet Cas’ as Bobby disappeared, continuing to boss his dad around in the kitchen.  
  
Cas pressed his lips together, taking another tentative step. “Dean...it’s...good to see you.”  
  
Dean’s brain spun. Good to see me? How could he say that? How could he just stand there and be there and...  
  
He felt Sam step behind him more than he heard it, Riot trotting forward to sniff Cas’ shoes and wag his tail.  
  
He glanced down at the dog, a small grin ghosting his lips as he barely acknowledged him.  
  
“Cas?” Sam said, shocking Dean’s system as the name was spoken. At the incredulity that Cas was actually here.  
  
“Wow, hello, Sam.”  
  
Sam scoffed. “Wait...are you the kid from town that helps Bobby?”  
  
A smile flitted across his dry lips. “I am.”  
  
Sam stepped beside Dean, not as frozen as he was, but stiff and eyes full of suspicion. “What the hell?”  
  
Yeah! What the hell? Why was he here? How the hell was he here?  
  
“We thought you disappeared. I mean, after you brought the bees that spring, you were…just gone.”  
  
Guilt flashed so heavily across Cas’ face that his chin tipped down and his eyes darted from Dean to Sam to the walls and finally settled on the floor. “I moved to Sioux Falls to help my uncle. And...I reconnected with Bobby and...”  
  
Sam huffed an unamused laugh as Dean still blinked slowly, his systems slowly clicking back to life one by one.  
  
“And you didn’t think it might be a good idea to, you know, tell Dean?”  
  
An understanding and another wash of guilt sunk into Cas’ eyes as they met Dean’s. He shook his head slowly, no words coming as his mouth tried to work something out. “I should go,” he managed finally, barely above a whisper. He turned, reaching for the knob.  
  
“Oh no,” Sam said with a tight, angry smile. “You should stay. Eat dinner. Tell us all about how your life has been the last ten years. Dad! Set a place for Cas!”  
  
Cas’ blue eyes went between the two brothers like a rabbit in a trap.  
  
Sam nodded, his mouth furling in an unmistakably angry expression. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”  
  
Cas’ hand dropped back to his side as his mouth pressed into a resolute line. “Alright.”  
  
Sam pressed Dean to the side, directing him into the living room with him. He stumbled along, sitting heavily onto the couch.  
  
He stared at the worn rug on the floor, smelling alfalfa baking in the sun, strawberries sweet and sticky, grass and Cas.  
  
  
  
****************************************************  
  
  
  
August 24, 2009  
  
Dean’s hands shook and Castiel could do nothing to stop it. Every word he said drew Dean deeper into a state of panic.  
  
“We knew this was coming, Dean,” he whispered, knowing they had minimal privacy and little time where they stood beside the combine in the east field, halfway through harvesting it.  
  
“But...we can do this, Cas! We’ll call! I’ll get a cell phone so we can text! We can...write letters! Email!”  
  
“Dean,” Cas said sadly, shaking his head.  
  
Dean shook his head back. “No. No. You are not dumping me two days before you leave so you can go back to being a college party boy!”  
  
Cas wanted to reach for him, wanted to release the tears that stung behind his own eyes as they cascaded down Dean’s cheeks.  
  
“I just think we’re too different, we’re at different points in our lives, Dean. I don’t see how this could work.”  
  
Dean’s breath caught hard as he tried to swallow his panic and rage. “YOU SHOULD’VE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT TWO MONTHS AGO! BEFORE I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU...ASSHOLE!”  
  
A tear finally broke free, sliding down Cas’ cheek. Seeing it, Dean fisted both his hands in his hair at an utter loss of what to say or do.  
  
Cas glanced at Bobby and Sam in the bailer, their tractor plodding along too noisily to even hear Dean’s yelling.  
  
“Get in the combine, Dean. We need to keep moving or...”  
  
Dean threw his hands up. “I don’t give a shit WHO knows, Cas! And don’t think I won’t come to Iowa State University and march around announcing it!” He stabbed a finger in Cas’ direction, yelling out to the swaying alfalfa ahead of them, “THIS GUY, CAS NOVAK, BELONGS TO ME! DON’T ANYONE TOUCH HIM OR I’LL KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS!”  
  
“Dean!” Cas snapped, using more anger than he’d ever felt while here. “Stop it.”  
  
“YOU stop it!” Dean panted, his chest heaving in and out as his face stained beet red. “You can’t do this, Cas!” He said brokenly.  
  
It broke Cas’ heart. “Get in the combine, Dean.”  
  
Dean stomped his way back, Castiel following close behind him. They both mounted the tractor easily, Cas pulling the cab door shut with a bang. He took over driving and harvesting because Dean was sitting there with his arms crossed over his chest.   
  
“Dean, I said we should be open to other people in our relationship because you are going to be a world away from me. It’s your senior year. You have prom to go to. Football games. Dances. I don’t want you sitting around at home because of me.”  
  
Dean stared ahead with a murderous expression.  
  
“I need this extension on my internship with Bobby. It’s important, Dean. It could affect my career!”  
  
“Fuck your career, Cas. And Bobby doesn’t have to know. Just because summer is over doesn’t mean I’m gonna blab about all we did all summer.”  
  
Castiel sighed. Dean just didn’t understand how different their lives were going to be in the matter of a few days.  
  
“Dean, I love you. That’s why I want to make this better.”  
  
Dean stared at him as if he were insane.  
  
“Look,” Cas explained, banking the corner smoothly to start a new row, “I said I wanted to talk about it. I did. You freaked out, so we won’t do it.”  
  
Dean watched him as a lot of emotions crossed his face. “So...you aren’t dumping me?”  
  
“Dean,” Cas sighed. “I suggested we be allowed to see other people. It’s...common in college. You really have no idea how separate our lives are about to be.”  
  
“I get it Cas! I’m younger than you, not stupider than you.”  
  
Cas sighed, spotting a gopher mound as he slowed the combine to a halt. He jumped out of the cab, kicking the mound with all the frustration his felt. He kept kicking until the mound was gone and he stood there panting. He couldn’t hurt Dean like this. He never should have talked about the future or whispered the sweet things he felt. He should have left Dean be innocent for one more year.  
  
He climbed back up into the cab, closing the door.  
  
“Feel better?” Dean asked quietly.  
  
Cas sighed. He either had to shut Dean down or go out on a limb and try a long-distance relationship.  
  
There could be no in between.  
  
He nodded. “I do feel better.” He turned to look at Dean’s hard, green eyes. “I can’t do this, Dean. I do love you. And if it’s meant to be, our roads will cross again.”  
  
Dean shifted the tractor into drive, staring ahead. “You’re scared.”  
  
“I’m terrified,” Cas said so softly he was shocked Dean heard him. But he did. And he reached for Cas’ hand, lacing their fingers as he continued harvesting.   
  
“Well, I’m not. I know we’ll be just fine. I love you too much for it to go down any other way, Cas.”  
  
  
  
*******************************************************  
  
  
  
December 25, 2019  
  
  
Sam stood like a sentry at the end of the couch. Cas made his way into the kitchen, giving Bobby his gift and meeting John for the first time.  
  
“This is Cas. He came ta work for me years ago. This is the kid that set up and started my bees.”  
  
“Really?” They heard his dad say.  
  
“He showed up again about five years ago and has been helping me keep this place afloat. He thinks I should sell, but I jus’ can’t see livin’ anywhere else.”  
  
Dean jumped up from the couch, stopping when Sam grabbed him by the shoulder of his flannel. “Where are you going?”  
  
“Out.”  
  
“Give me your keys,” Sam said tightly.  
  
Dean met his eyes with a hard challenge. “I don’t need you to -”  
  
“You aren’t leaving,” Sam hissed. “Because if you do, I’m going to hurt that man, Dean. I swear to God.”  
  
Dean’s look turned to shock.   
  
“He has NO power over you, Dean. Your life is your own. You owe him nothing. In fact, he owes you and I a lot. And Bobby.”  
  
Dean pulled away but Sam’s grip tightened.  
  
He narrowed his eyes, digging his keys out of his pocket and slapped them into Sam’s hand. Sam immediately let him go, taking a deep breath as he slid them in his own pocket.  
  
“I could hotwire that car in one minute flat if I wanted,” Dean snapped, leaving his brother standing there. He left through the front door, the thwack of wood on wood echoing across the frozen ground, bouncing around the snow dusted trees. His boots crunched just as loud as he stomped his way across the yard toward the barn. He shoved the sliding bay door open, ramming his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking.  
  
Bobby’s tractor sat at the front. It was parked next to a ramp that Bobby could wheel up and get in. The driving gears were all hand operated, making this something Bobby could do on his own. He had no idea the ramp was even here. He had no idea what Bobby actually did around the farm any more.  
  
“He likes to plow the snow.”  
  
Dean turned, still shocked at the familiar, yet so new, sound of Cas’ voice. “What the fuck are you doing here?”  
  
Cas ducked his mouth behind his scarf before straightening up to reveal his mouth again. “I moved to Sioux Falls five years ago. My uncle Marv lives here and...I...am friends with Bobby. I...love this farm.”  
  
Dean shrank back at that. “You mean the farm you want my uncle to sell? Are you hoping to sweep in and buy it?”  
  
Cas frowned. “I thought Bobby told you I’d been around. I already own half of the farm.”  
  
Dean staggered back a step as a cold vice clamped his chest. “You mother fucker.”  
  
Cas looked stung by the words, his eyes dropping again. “He was in foreclosure in 2016. I bought the back half of the farm. The fields and -”  
  
“I know my way around the farm,” Dean snapped, effectively shutting Cas up. “So, you’re a vulture, waiting to swoop in and take it all.”  
  
Cas paced into the barn with a determined look on his face. “Bobby and I work just fine together. He needed help and I provided it. He and I are both sunk into this farm. This dying farm that no one but the two of us seems to care about.”  
  
Dean was pretty sure he just had a mini stroke. It would make sense. His cholesterol was high and his blood pressure was often high too. He found himself standing there with two fistfuls of Cas’ coat as he slammed him against the wood wall, dust raining down on both of them.  
  
Cas’ startled shock of blue eyes against his pale skin was the only thing to bring Dean back to his senses. He dropped Cas’ coat with a disgusted shove as he paced away.  
  
“You weren’t around, Dean. He needed help. And...you were building a career at Adler. And Sam was busy with school. And your dad...”  
  
Dean was staring at him again from the foot of the ramp, a good three paces between them. “Are you stalking me?”  
  
Cas huffed, dusting his coat off. “No. Bobby talks about you all the time. He always talks about how smart you are. How successful. And, of course, how awesome Sam is doing in school. I didn’t mean to keep it hidden, Dean. I thought Bobby told you. I’ve been in the house when you two were on the phone!”  
  
Dean scoffed. “Yeah. The ‘kid from in town’. I thought you were a KID from in town!”  
  
Cas turned his head, a look of pain crossing his face. “When I got here in 2015, Bobby was NOT okay.”  
  
Dean shook his head. “I talk to that man all the time. He’s MY family.”  
  
“Oh, I know,” Cas said bitterly, “you all lie very well.”  
  
Dean’s blood ran cold. His ears rang. And he stared at Cas in a bold-faced moment of awe. “You did hear him.” Dean thought back to a phone call, their second to last phone call, where Sam had made it sound like he was running around on Cas while they were attempting a struggling long distance relationship. But it had only been a miscommunication. One that he thought he had dodged. But apparently not.  
  
Cas nodded. After a cold stare, his face softened. “It wasn’t even your fault, Dean. I pushed you away. I was so sure back then that I had it all figured out. I was too old, too mature, too...caught up in my world, to see how alone and hurting you were. You were too young. That’s what I told myself.”  
  
Silence crystallized in the frozen air.  
  
“I was mad. Scared. I knew I’d never catch up to you. You were like a comet. So bright and fast and burned so damn hot. And I couldn’t hold on. I...” Dean sagged against the rail of the ramp. “I never did catch up.”  
  
Cas, searching his face with cautious eyes, took a step closer to him. “You by far surpassed anything I ever did, Dean. And...for as mature as I was so sure I was, you were the one that had it all figured out.”  
  
Dean shook his head no. Because if that were the truth, then the last ten years had been a complete waste.  
  
“No matter what I did, the awards I won or the grants I got...none of it ever made me as happy as I was the summer I spent with you here.”  
  
Dean stared at him in disbelief. “That’s a lie.”  
  
“Oh, I’m sure I had myself fooled for a little while. But no. It was the happiest time in my life. And I just let it slip away. I think,” he huffed a laugh, looking up to the high rafters, “I think I was so sure you would bore of me, that I made it happen. I made us...break.”  
  
Dean couldn’t really argue with that. He’d been so in love with Cas that he thought his heart had shattered beyond all repair. And after burning so hot, the cold he got in return left him starving for heat. Starving for touch. “But I never found it,” Dean said, shaking his head sadly.  
  
Cas tilted his head. “Found what?”  
  
Dean shook his head, those thoughts barely ever reaching the light of day in his own head, let alone the real world.  
  
Cas looked down at his shoes, huddling his trench coat more snuggly around him. “I would like to stay and...I would like to really catch up, if you’ll allow it.”  
  
Dean thought about it. Cas was a huge hole in his heart. The background reason for so many things he did and had done. He always denied it to himself, but he knew damn well why he had gone to college instead of coming back to Bobby’s. Because Cas had thought it was so much smarter. Why he had gone far away to college. Because Cas wasn’t likely to be anywhere near the state of Colorado. Why he ran himself ragged and worked all hours to succeed. Because that’s what grown men did. They got careers and succeeded. And Cas didn’t think he was a grown up. Cas thought he was too immature. And too relaxed. He had come out to his parents during his senior year because he wasn’t keeping secrets for Cas. Though he did. No one but Sam actually knew what happened that summer. Sam kept his secrets. Sam paid the price of Cas’ mistakes as well.   
  
He glanced out the bay door, seeing Sam standing on the porch unmoving. He had to be freezing cold, but he looked ready to storm across the yard and slaughter Cas where he stood.  
  
“Sam knows.”  
  
“I gathered that,” Cas smirked. “I never told Bobby.”  
  
Dean frowned. “I just kinda got the impression Bobby knew.”  
  
“Yes. I did too. But I never told him. Mostly because I was ashamed and feared he would hate me.”  
  
Dean nodded. “They all know I’m gay, they just don’t know about you. They think I had a nasty break-up with a guy online.” Dean scoffed. “My mom said the greatest hateful shit about you. Not that she knew it was you.”  
  
Cas nodded. “I’m so sorry about your mother, Dean. And Bobby. And your dad.”  
  
Dean shook his head, a hard chill taking his breath. “I got your card.”  
  
Cas nodded, guilt flaring so heavily it cracked through the ice in Dean’s heart.  
  
Cas inched a little closer. “Bobby said it was icy roads. That Ellen’s husband Bill and your mom were killed on impact. Bobby was...not in a good place when I moved back to town. He hid his depression so well from you and Sam. And you already had so much going on. I...it made me feel like I was helping fix something in the paradise that I ruined.” He took another step closer, his hands buried in his pockets as snow flurried through the door to land on the lapels of his coat and cling there. “I am so sorry for ruining...everything. It was all my fault, Dean. You and I...I broke something that cannot be mended. So, I mend the fences and fix the car. I work on the tractors and fix the doors,” with every word Cas’ eyes got redder around the edges tears slipping down his cheeks. “I will never be able to repair the damages I made, Dean. I will always be sorry for my part in ruining things between us. Ruining my -” he bit his tirade off, wiping at his cheeks as his eyes skirted the inside of the barn.  
  
Life? Was he going to say their breakup had ruined his life? Dean struggled for what to make of that. For what it meant. For an opportunity missed for so long.  
  
Dean got the impression Cas would take any beating or verbal rebuke he gave him. But it wasn’t what Dean wanted. What he wanted was to be able to breathe normally again. To understand himself and Cas. To understand what had happened and who they had become. But as he watched the man that had pulled him from boyhood to manhood, he felt the past resentments slip away a little. His mind was spinning at the fact that Cas had cried. And at how angry and shocked he was to see him standing in front of him like this. His mother’s words from long ago came back to him. ‘If you’re this upset about it, then it must have been important.’ Well, Cas had a special place no one else would ever have. He had thought about confronting Cas before. About tearing him down, showing him just how successful he had become. But his words of revenge were gone, slipping away at the first tear that slid down Cas’ cheek. He didn’t have it in him to hate Cas.   
  
He never would.  
  
“It was all a long time ago, Cas,” Dean said softly, stepping a little closer to him. “I’m not gonna pretend to really understand any of this because...it’s just so fucked up.”  
  
Cas nodded, looking like he was willing to make whatever move Dean ordered him to, which was so completely not the Cas he remembered.  
  
“Thank you for helping Bobby,” he said tightly. “I wish I had known the truth. I would have been here a lot sooner. I didn’t think he needed me.”  
  
“He blames himself,” Cas said, his eyes glued to the ground. “For the accident. For Bill and Mary. Ellen told him long ago it wasn’t his fault. It was the icy roads. But John...”  
  
Dean nodded, knowing how cruel and dark his father had been for some time.  
  
“I think you should stay for dinner. I think we have a lot to talk to Bobby about.”  
  
Cas looked like he’d just requested the hardest thing in the world. And he may have. Bobby might hate him as bad as Sam did. And who knew what to expect from his dad.  
  
“I made mistakes too, Cas. And you were partly correct. I wasn’t ready for something so...real. But...I can...”  
  
Cas nodded, latching onto the words with hope in his eyes.  
  
He was so different. So focused. The Cas he knew from ten years ago was a dreamer. And no matter how mature he thought Cas was back then, it did not even compare to the man that stood a few feet away from him.  
  
“Just stay for dinner and...try not to piss Sam off.”  
  
Cas nodded, following him into the house. Cas walked by Sam’s steely gaze with an apologetic nod.  
  
  
****************************************************  
  
  
August 26, 2009  
  
  
Dean came down the back steps of Bobby’s house with a feeling of nothing short of despair. Cas was leaving today. His love. The best thing that had ever happened to him. It was going to be miserable going through this year without him.  
  
Sam was sitting at the table eating cereal. He raised his eyebrows as if something big was about to happen.  
  
“Mornin’,” Bobby said from the coffee pot. He turned around, frowning at Dean. “You look like dog crap.”  
  
“Thanks,” Dean huffed, trying to hide his mood better.  
  
“Eggs?”  
  
“Nah, I’m not hungry,” Dean said, glancing toward the window.  
  
“Well, here. Cas stopped by this morning before he left town. He left notes for you and Sam.”  
  
Dean was staring at him in shock as Bobby waited, white envelope waiting in his outstretched arm.  
  
“What?”  
  
Bobby squinted. “Cas. He left early. But said to give you this.”  
  
Dean took the envelope in slow motion. “He’s gone?”  
  
“Yeah, something about beating traffic this morning. I don’t know. I told him he could go wake you two up, but, he wanted to go.”  
  
He wanted to go.   
  
Cas was gone.  
  
No goodbye.  
  
No last stolen kiss.  
  
He left.  
  
Dean nodded, taking the envelope up the steps to their room, climbing up to his bed in the top bunk, opening the letter with shaking hands.  
  
He had written a very short message on a piece of copier paper.  
  
Dean,  
I just couldn’t say goodbye. Let last night’s kiss linger on your lips until next we meet.  
Love,  
Cas  
  
Dean looked for more, but that was it! “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled, eyes staring blankly out the bedroom window. That son of bitch had left without a goodbye. The poetic words were hardly enough to comfort him. He wandered out of the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door.  
  
Dean sat on the toilet, the letter crumpling to his head as a silent, body-wracking sob gripped him so tight he heard nothing until Sam was shaking him.  
  
“Dean! What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”  
  
Dean waved Sam away, nowhere near prepared to explain why he was upset, let alone bawling like a friggin’ baby.  
  
Sam snatched the note from the floor.  
  
“Sam! Give it back!” Dean yelled, snatching it before Sam could open it.  
  
“What did he say? Did he break up with you?”  
  
Dean stared at him in shock. “Wh-what?”  
  
Sam’s angry scowl softened. “I know you two were foolin’ around. Did he say something mean?”  
  
“No! And...no! We weren’t foolin’ around!”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. “You two sneak off all the time. I know you, Dean. You liked him a lot. I knew you were gonna be upset that he just left. What did he do?” He lunged for the note again, but Dean jerked it away.  
  
“How do you know? Does Bobby know?”  
  
“It was OBVIOUS. But I don’t think Bobby knows. I never said anything.” Sam closed the bathroom door, sitting on the floor to lean against it. “Bobby went to the store. He’s getting us pie for tonight since we leave tomorrow. Now...what happened?”  
  
Dean wanted to run. He wanted to lie his way out of this and pretend everything was fine. But Sam stared at him with open brown eyes.  
  
“I...we...we fell in love.”  
  
Sam’s brows raised. “Oh.” He seemed sad about it. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Dean huffed, folding the stupid note and putting it in his pocket. “It’s fine.”  
  
“It’s fine?” Sam’s scowl deepened. He got to his feet. “It’s not fine! That dick broke your heart! He didn’t even say goodbye! Who does that?!”  
  
Dean was torn between laughing at his brother calling Cas a dick and wanted to sob at the truth of the matter. “Maybe...maybe he knew I was gonna cry. Or...he was. And he didn’t want Bobby to see.”  
  
“Why can’t Bobby know?”  
  
“Bobby’s his boss. He mighta kicked him out. Ended his internship. Or...kept us apart.”  
  
“Well, maybe you needed kept apart. Maybe he wasn’t good for you!”  
  
Dean dropped his head into his hands with a moan. “He was good, Sam. He was...” He fought so hard, stemming the tears as Sam hugged him.  
  
“I don’t care how great you think he was. He upset you and that makes him a jerk in my book.”  
  
Dean sat up taking a deep breath. He hugged Sam back. “Sorry I wasn’t around much this summer.”  
  
Sam stood up. “Yeah...forgot to say you’re a jerk too.”  
  
  
**************************************  
  
  
September 21, 2009  
  
  
Castiel smiled at the card and Dean’s neat writing. Their parting had been rough. Dean still didn’t have a cell phone, but he had bought a truck, according to the message in the note.   
  
“Is it your birthday?” Crowley asked, leaning back in the chair at his desk that he commanded like a throne.  
  
“No,” he said quietly, tucking the card into his book. He jumped when a silent hand snatched the card from over his shoulder.   
  
“Well! You had a better summer than you let on! Who is Dean and when will I be corrupting him?”  
  
“You won’t,” Cas snapped, snatching the card away.  
  
“Is he here on campus?”  
  
“No. And you won’t be meeting him.” It reminded him of the conversation he and Dean had been having when he knew for absolute sure that Dean was flirting with him. He had made a joke about them kicking Crowley out and sleeping together. How sweet and innocent Dean was. How utterly different Crowley was. He longed for the farm and summer evenings.  
  
  
************************************************  
  
  
October 1, 2009  
  
  
Dean sat in his room, the lights out and his video game system on loud.  
  
Sam flopped onto the bed, jostling him.  
  
“I got somethin’ you want,” Sam sang.  
  
Dean glared at him. “Are you five?”  
  
“I am right now!” Sam waved an envelope like a fan.  
  
Dean paused the game, his eyes growing wide as his legs ejected him forward to snatch the letter, making Sam laugh. Dean grinned so hard at the blocky writing that he toppled over on the bed with it clutched to his chest. He opened it, Sam waiting patiently. It was longer than any other letter Cas had sent. He raced through it, so happy for any words at all. He was busy. And missed him. And worried that Dean was okay. His roommate sounded like a douchebag. He wanted to know if he had taken his SATs, filed for financial aid and applied anywhere yet. It made Dean worry that if he didn’t get into Iowa, he and Cas would really fall apart.  
  
“He gave me his email!”  
  
“Good,” Sam nodded.   
  
  
They emailed several times a day at first, which quickly dwindled as Dean was working and Cas was busy.  
  
And days stretched to weeks. And Dean decided Cas really deserved someone as smart as he was. Someone as bright and serious. He got into Iowa State, but never told Cas. The cold truth was, he couldn’t afford to go. Though he wanted it more than anything, it was impossible.  
  
  
*****************************  
  
  
November 9, 2009  
  
  
Dean sat outside the football game, waiting for Sam to get in the truck. It was the final game of the season and they had just seen their first snowflakes of winter. Their team had won, even though it was too late to go on to the playoffs, it still ended the season on a high. Sam, being in band, was running behind, not that Dean was in a hurry. His friend Lee sat in the front seat next to him as they flipped through a car magazine.  
  
Dean’s newly purchased cell phone rang in his back pocket. He jumped to the side, pulling it out in a rush.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Hello, Dean.” Cas’ voice sounded a little flat. It often did. Dean got sick of hearing how exhausted Cas was. Honestly, the guy had been kind of a downer over the past month.  
  
“Hi! How’s it going?”  
  
“Good. Busy. I was wondering -”  
  
“Dude!” Sam yelled as he wrenched the passenger side door open. “Quit hangin’ all over my brother! You ride in the back!”  
  
“Relax!” Lee snapped from right beside Dean, whose eyes were widening at how that outburst must have sounded to Cas.  
  
“Shut up, Sam!” Dean hissed as his brother slammed the passenger door shut and got grumpily into the narrow back seat of the extended cab.  
  
As soon as the door shut Sam huffed. “You told me to ask Maddison out. I did. She laughed and said no in front of the whole band!”  
  
Dean frowned, trying not to laugh at his brother’s crowd being the band, and still miffed at nasty girls. “Can I call you later?” Dean whispered into the phone.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“And if one more guy comes up to me and says, ‘your brother’s Dean, right? He’s gay, right? Is he still single?’ I’m gonna punch them in the stupid face. Because I just want one girl to like me and EVERYBODY likes Dean!”  
  
“Yeah, I gotta go,” Dean snapped, ending the call. He turned, glaring at Sam. “I was on the phone with Cas, you little dick!”  
  
Sam’s mouth dropped open. “I was just...what did I say?”  
  
Lee smirked and Dean whacked his shoulder. “Oh, he probably didn’t hear Sam anyway. And besides, if he were more into you, he’d call more often.”  
  
Dean glared at him. He hated how true that just might be.  
  
“Sorry,” Sam pouted, staring out the window.  
  
“Maddison is a little monster for doing that, Sam,” Dean insisted, seeing Sam shrug a little. “She’ll be sorry for doing that. And she better hope I don’t see her around.”  
  
Sam smiled a little before it fell again. “Just wish she wouldn’t have been like that. At least I didn’t have to waste my time dating her to figure out she’s mean.”  
  
“There’s the spirit,” Dean grinned, working his way out of the busy parking lot. He dropped Lee off and went home, Sam disappearing into the house quickly.  
  
Dean took the privacy of his truck to call Cas back, hoping he had not caught any of the conversation earlier.  
  
“Hello?” Came the gravelly voice that always made him grin.  
  
“Hey! Sorry about all that. I was driving a friend home.”  
  
“No problem,” Cas said.  
  
“Soooo, did you catch any of that?”  
  
“Not really. Why?”  
  
“No reason! So, what’s up? Besides studying.”  
  
“Nothing, really. Were you at a football game?”  
  
“Yep. Last one. Kinda sad, really.”  
  
The line went quiet for a moment. “Do you play? I don’t think I ever asked.”  
  
“No. I did in 9th and 10th grade. Then I had a job and couldn’t swing both.”  
  
“Mm.”   
  
The line went quiet again. Dean tapped nervously on his steering wheel. “Crowley been buggin’ you lately?”  
  
“No more than usual.”  
  
Dean smiled weakly. “I miss you.”  
  
“I miss you too. I hope...maybe...” he sighed. “I should go. I have a test tomorrow.”  
  
“You have tests every day,” Dean complained. “I gotta say, college kinda sounds like it sucks.”  
  
“Well, it certainly is about more than football games.”  
  
Dean frowned at his dashboard.   
  
“Sorry. It’s been a long day.”  
  
“Wish we could walk over the hill to the birch. Those summer nights were my favorites.”  
  
“Mine too. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you soon, Dean.”  
  
“Okay. Love you.”  
  
He frowned at the dial tone. Cas seemed so distracted. He ended his side of the call and glanced over at the passenger seat. He hoped Lee was wrong. And he hoped Cas hadn’t heard the crap Sam had said.  
  
  
**********************************************  
  
  
November 12, 2009  
  
  
It had been three days since he had spoken to Dean. The thought pushed intrusively into all his classes and into all his reading assignments. Dean was not taking getting into college very seriously and it bothered him. He loved school. He loved learning. And his bee theories were really taking him places. He was getting a lot of attention from the entire science staff, recently winning another award that may lead to another scholarship. It was all exciting and any time he brought it up to Dean, he acted like Cas was such a big nerd. Honestly, he was tired of it. He’d been teased for being nerdy for too long. He finally really fit in with a lot of people and it felt really good.  
  
The better college went, the bigger the gap grew between he and Dean.  
  
He sat down that night and called him. No answer. Afraid he would lose his nerve, he tailored an email that clearly outlined how much he truly had fallen for Dean, but that they were just too different. He had never broken up with anyone before. The thought of Dean reading this made him sad, but it had to be done. He had confided in his friend Ishim that Dean was still in high school. Ishim had looked horrified. Ever since, he spoke of Dean as a subspecies and that he really deserved to be with someone his own speed.  
  
He had argued against it, but always worried that Ishim was right. But when he heard Sam say that ‘another’ guy was ‘hanging all over’ him and that so many people were asking after him, Cas got the distinct feeling that something wasn’t right. And the unfamiliar voice of another guy sitting very close to Dean (not denying that he was ‘all over’ him) and Dean’s quick response to tell Sam to shut up, led him to an ugly set of possibilities. The thought of Dean dating behind his back was more than he could take. He did not say that in the email, but he told him in clear terms that he would always cherish their summer, but what they had was over.  
  
After he sent the email, he worried and worried about Dean opening it. How he would take it. And what he would say in return.  
  
When he told Ishim as much, the guy shrugged and said, “Just delete his emails. Block them. And don’t answer his calls. He’s obviously not respecting the incredible person you are, Castiel.”  
  
The thoughts swarmed like angry bees.  
  
  
******************************************  
  
  
December 25, 2019  
  
  
Dean helped put dishes on the table, working around everyone with an edge of frustration.  
  
They sat at Bobby’s table, Bobby at one end, John at the other. Dean and Sam sat on one side while Cas sat on the other, looking extremely uncomfortable. Riot parked himself underneath the table at everyone’s feet, waiting for a bite of anything to hit the floor.  
  
“I’m really glad we did this,” John grinned. “It’s been way too long, Bobby.”  
  
Bobby nodded. He lifted his glass in a toast. “To mending fences, farms, and families.”  
  
They all toasted, Dean and Cas making fleeting eye contact as Sam quite obviously skipped toasting Cas’ glass.  
  
Dean gave him a warning look, that Sam all-but challenged out loud. He was pretty sure Sam was projecting his own recent breakup with Amelia onto the old breakup he and Cas had. Although Sam had been around for Dean’s moping and heartache, he had also been there when Dean got over it and moved on.  
  
As he watched Cas put a helping of turkey onto his plate, he wondered just how much he had actually moved on. His hands still entranced him. And his body still made Dean react. Sure, he wasn’t popping inappropriate boners at the dinner table like when he was a teenager, but he felt a stir deep inside that still made his chest tight.  
  
Cas glanced up at him and Dean quickly looked away.  
  
“So, you boys all knew each other?” John asked.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Sam offered, cheerful enough to the unsuspecting ear, but it was certainly clipped to Dean, “Cas worked here the last summer Dean and I both came. Dean never came back after that though. Why was that, Dean?” His smile and hard eyes moved from Cas to Dean.  
  
Jesus.  
  
Dean put a helping of potatoes onto his plate with a splat. “I went to college. And then I was working.”  
  
Bobby handed Sam the basket of rolls with a quick glance between Cas and Sam.   
  
“Right,” Sam grinned tightly, taking the rolls, plucking one out and handing them to Dean. “So, Cas, what have you been doing with your life? Big, exciting stuff, I assume.”  
  
Cas finally blushed a bit at that. “I did have some success with the bees here,” he said quietly, handing Bobby the green beans.  
  
“Some!” Bobby scoffed. “Kid made the papers! And had articles published in a couple agriculture magazines. He was so popular for a couple years that big wigs would come knockin’ on MY door lookin’ for him. He changed the bee population in South Dakota! And ever since, alfalfa production has been up.”  
  
“Wow,” John said, handing Cas the rolls with a grin.  
  
Cas took them, looking more uncomfortable by the second. It kinda made Dean happy. But mostly it made him feel defensive. He suspected Cas was on the verge of something great. He just didn’t really understand the big deal, other than more bees meant better pollinating and healthier crops.   
  
“That’s really great, Cas,” he said, earning an annoyed glare from Sam, which he chose to completely ignore.  
  
They all got to work on the food on their plates, silence setting in for several minutes.  
  
“The potatoes are so good,” John groaned.  
  
“It’s the butter,” Bobby, Dean, and Sam all said, laughing.  
  
Dean snuck glances at Cas quite often. He couldn’t believe he was here. That he was LIVING here. That he OWNED half of Bobby’s farm.  
  
“Bobby, why didn’t you tell us you sold half of the farm?” Dean asked, unable to get past it.  
  
Bobby glanced at Cas, then down to his plate as he ladled gravy onto everything. “Guess Cas told you that.”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean answered, a bite of turkey halfway to his mouth.   
  
Sam dropped his spoon in shock.  
  
Bobby glared at him, then settled his forearms on the edge of the table. “I woulda lost the whole thing. Cas owns half now and it works out well for both of us.”  
  
“You fucking -” Sam started, glaring hard at Cas.  
  
“Hey!” Bobby cut him off with a firm voice and a finger pointed threateningly at Sam. “You can weigh in on this conversation when you have enough money to buy Cas out. Until then, zip it.”  
  
Sam turned from Bobby to Cas in stunned silence, mouth hanging wide.  
  
“It’s part of our agreement,” Cas went on quietly, “that should you or Dean wish to buy the land back, you can.”  
  
Sam at least closed his trap.  
  
Dean nodded. He could do that. He’d done nothing but save and diversify his stocks, earning a decent amount of money if he ever figured out what exactly to do with it. “I might take you up on that.”  
  
Cas met his eyes, nodding slowly.  
  
“No wonder you want Bobby to sell,” Sam said angrily. “So you can have the whole place!”  
  
“Sam,” John warned just as harshly as Bobby had. “You need to watch your mouth.”  
  
Sam scoffed, digging back into his dinner angrily.  
  
Dean sighed. He hadn’t meant to stir up more problems, but he really had been shocked that Cas owned any part of Bobby’s farm.  
  
“If it weren’t for Cas, I’d be sittin’ in some dumb apartment in town and workin’ some dumb job. And he does a lot around here.”  
  
Dean nodded, understanding why Bobby had done what he did. “You shoulda said something, Bobby. I would have helped.”  
  
“From Kansas City? And you’re always talkin’ about moving to Denver or Colorado Springs. It didn’t seem fair to saddle you with something like this when your ambitions were taking you elsewhere.”  
  
Dean’s eyes dropped down to his own plate. That was quite accurate. At least, those were the things he said to Bobby on the regular. Suddenly, those ambitions seemed so not who he really was.  
  
The rest of the meal went on, mostly conversation between John and Bobby.  
  
As they all nursed their drinks and contemplated having thirds, John got a funny quirk on his face. “Did you two have a thing?”  
  
Dean and Cas’ eyes met before Dean looked at his dad. “What?”  
  
John nodded, seeing something in Dean’s expression. He sat forward. “You and Cas. Is that why Sam’s all wound up about the farm? You two had a thing going and...what? Broke up?”  
  
Dean knew he was blushing. He could feel the burn on his cheeks. He stared at the small sweet potato left on his plate that he was unable to stuff in. “Yeah.”  
  
John nodded. “I see. Is this the ‘online boyfriend’ that broke your heart?”  
  
“Dad,” Dean groaned, resting his head on his balled-up hands so he could die behind them where no one would see.  
  
“What? That was forever ago!”  
  
“That was him,” Sam said, not bothering to glare at anyone this time.  
  
Cas blew out a breath, sitting back in his chair.  
  
“They thought they were pretty slick,” Bobby said, making Dean and Cas both look at him in surprise. “At first I thought they were sneakin’ off to smoke weed. But I knew better when Cas left and Dean got so upset.”  
  
Dean wanted to disappear.  
  
He rubbed at his temples, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.  
  
“We did,” Cas went on. “Sorry for the deceit, Bobby.”  
  
Bobby shrugged. “You two were just kids.”  
  
Dean groaned. “Can we talk about something else?”  
  
“Yeah, like, dumping him over email?” Sam stated.  
  
“Oh my god,” Dean groaned, the heels of his hands planted firmly against his eyes.  
  
“Yes, not my finest hour,” Cas admitted.   
  
“Ooohhh,” John said. “Well, no wonder these two are treating you like you got the plague.”  
  
“It was -”  
  
“A long friggin’ time ago,” Dean cut Cas off, sitting up as sparks of light danced in his vision. “Drop it. Please.”  
  
“First loves are tough,” Bobby added.  
  
“Dean was never right after that!” Sam defended. “He -”  
  
“Sam!” Dean stared at his brother, daring him to say another word.  
  
Sam screwed his mouth up, shaking his head. “Fine. Fine. I know nothing. I’m just the dumb kid that doesn’t get it.”  
  
“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Bobby chided. “Like Dean said, it was a long time ago. And family don’t just walk away. Look at us, years have gone by and here we sit.”  
  
Dean glanced at Cas with an apologetic look. Cas wiped his mouth. “Thank you for having me over for dinner, Bobby.”  
  
“You bet, kid.”  
  
John (of all people) held a hand up. “Don’t go runnin’ outta here. Dean’s a big boy. If he’s not okay with all this, he’ll say so. Stay for dessert.”  
  
Cas started to argue, but Dean beat him to it. “Yeah, stay for dessert. Everything is better with pie.”  
  
Cas met his gaze with a thankful tilt to his unsure grin.  
  
“I always knew the two of you would run into each other here eventually,” Bobby grinned. “Didn’t count on Sam bein’ such a watchdog, but hey.”  
  
Sam held his hands up, shaking his head no. “I said my piece. I’m out.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes as his brother got up and started clearing the table.  
  
“So, are you farming your half of the farm?” John asked Cas.  
  
“Yes. Alfalfa mostly. We rotate a crop of barley through to enrich the soil, but other than that, it all runs a lot like Bobby had it.”  
  
“The front fields have been neglected fer the past few years,” Bobby added. “Had two really bad years with weevils and burned one of them to the ground before it could spread. This spring though, I think we’ll be back to full crops.”  
  
Cas nodded, getting up to help clear dishes. Dean got up as well, still perplexed by Cas’ change.  
  
The rest of the evening went on, until Cas said he really should go.  
  
Dean, sweeping the kitchen floor, gave Cas a nod and grin as he waved goodbye.  
  
Cas turned to leave, but stopped. He came back to Dean, who paused in his work to look at Cas.  
  
“I should give you my number. In case you want to discuss buying back my half of the farm.”  
  
There was something sad about Cas’ words, the weight in his shoulders. He pulled his phone out, unlocking it. “I’ll be leaving in the morning. I have to work tomorrow, but...we should...yeah.”  
  
Cas recited his number while Dean put him in his contacts. He grinned at Cas’ name in his list of contacts. “I can’t believe you are in my phone again.” He laughed, looking up to see a wry smile on Cas’ face.  
  
“It’s good,” Cas blushed, looking down to his hands. “I’ll do whatever you want, Dean.”  
  
He watched as Cas gave him one last look before leaving.  



	6. Drifted Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wishes do come true. For some, it is by sheer force of will power. For others, it is by laying down your sword.

Chapter 6: Drifted Away  
  
  
January 5, 2020  
  
  
Dean stabbed the assortment of vegetables in his salad, stuffing the bite in his mouth to chew and swallow.  
  
Another salad, another day.  
  
He was sitting at his desk, tie flipped over his shoulder as he consumed his crappy lunch. But hey, his cholesterol was being managed. But his blood pressure was up. It had been a game of ups and downs for the past several years.   
  
It was Friday and he needed to wrap up his report before leaving here today. His office door popped open, Zachariah leaning in.  
  
“Hey there, Winchester!”  
  
“Boss man! What can I do for ya?”  
  
Zachariah stepped inside, his calculating eyes sweeping over Dean’s desk. “Have you run the numbers for the distribution tallies in the North Dakota western region?”  
  
Dean wiped his mouth, sliding to his second desk in his office chair. “Yeah. Yesterday.” He glanced through three files before handing one to him.  
  
Zachariah took it, sitting down.  
  
“I wanted to run the three neighboring counties before I turned it in so I could give you a realistic comparison.”  
  
Zachariah nodded, glancing at the report.  
  
Dean watched him carefully. The truth of the matter was, he was dragging his feet on turning over his numbers because they were down.  
  
“Mmm,” Zachariah frowned. “We need to cut these farms loose. They aren’t up to par.”  
  
“If they lose our support, they’ll fold,” Dean said quietly.  
  
Zachariah’s cold blue eyes lifted to meet his. “That’s the way this works, Dean. You can’t think about every farm. You CAN think about every line of numbers. To me, this file reads, ‘cut, cut, cut, cut, cut.”  
  
Dean frowned. “But if it’s a seasonal problem, then it’s not their fault. They could really improve if they have better rain or aren’t fighting whatever has their crops down.”  
  
Zachariah sighed, closing the file. “And that’s why you are still in the side offices instead of advancing to the next floor. You are too busy looking at the details to see your way out of here.”  
  
Dean nodded, pulling his tie into place.  
  
“Don’t wait for the comparison. Send that file to my office so I can bring it up at our fiscal meeting on Monday.”  
  
Dean nodded again, watching the man leave. He slumped in his chair, picking up the file. He opened it to the spreadsheet. The first column held a list of numbers. Each farm they assessed was assigned a number. A seven-digit identifier for their system. What you never saw was the name of the farm, what they farmed, what issues they had over the season, or pictures of the families that owned them.  
  
He licked his lips, his salad forgotten and pushed aside. This list contained 17 farms. Contained 17 homesteads that were about to lose some of their funding. And he had rooted them out. Pointed them out. They were the low-hanging fruit.  
  
He felt like a reaper, bringing death to unsuspecting, hardworking people.  
  
His head throbbed.  
  
His eyes scrunched tight as he blew a breath out. Not all the farms on the list would fold. For some of them, the Adler Agriculture, Inc. safety net was only one of several financial assistants they had. But for some...  
  
2487433  
  
Dean typed the number into Adler’s system.  
  
Acreage, location, output, and there it was. A name. Not a conglomerate of donors. A family.  
  
“I can’t do it,” Dean whispered. He shook his head, exiting out of the file, out of the system, out of his computer.  
  
He stared around his office. This had been happening a lot lately. He tugged at his tie, loosening the grip it had around his neck. He counted to ten, pictured the open road, and rearranged his little Zen garden on his desk (a gift from an office Christmas party), raking the sand tray into sweeping strokes.  
  
His salad wasn’t sitting well, and he was sure his blood pressure was rising. He paced back and forth behind his desk. Ever since Christmas, he couldn’t settle in. Nothing tasted right. Everything felt...dispensable. Plastic and glass surrounded him at all times. He had come to realize his apartment was uncomfortable. His bed was too firm. His couch squeaked and felt hard. And there was exactly one picture of his family in his bedroom. Otherwise, anyone could be living there.   
  
It was all so...boring.  
  
Dean tucked the file into his bag. He couldn’t ruin any more farms. He couldn’t destroy any more lives.  
  
He focused on other small tasks, keeping busy until he could leave. In the sanctuary of his car, he took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel to ground him. His suit felt stiff and a cold shiver spread down his back. He drove to his apartment, barely glancing around as he dropped his bag and went straight to his room. He tore his suit off and soaked in the steam of a long shower. But it was too quiet in the shower. Rows of numbers and the farmer’s name clamored loudly in his mind. He dried off and pulled on his softest pair of pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. He folded himself into the blankets of his bed, but he still felt cold.  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
January 9, 2020  
  
Castiel sat inside his truck, staring at the closed barn door, rehashing the scene between Dean and himself for the millionth time. Everything felt so...off, since he had seen Dean standing in Bobby’s hallway. The completely bizarre thing was what had taken place several minutes before he arrived there. His uncle had given him the charming little wish box from Tibet. As soon as he had gotten in his truck, he opened the box, pulled out the slim pencil, and wrote the one and only word that haunted his dreams, daydreams, and memories. Why shouldn’t he be a wish too? He wrote ‘Dean’, and rolled the tiny scroll two clicks. He grinned at himself for what was probably a silly thing to try. I mean, who believed in wishes? Even at Christmas. He shook the little box gently, feeling the powder slide side to side. He put the box back into the packaging and drove to Bobby’s.

And there he was.

Like the universe had plucked him out of the ether and deposited him right in front of his face.

Dean.

Dean Winchester.

But perhaps he should have written more than one word. He had gotten Dean. And it had been the shock of a lifetime. But their reunion had not gone smoothly, that was for sure.

He pushed the thought away, trying to move on. For some reason, moving on this time was excruciating. Perhaps because he saw the hurt Dean had gone through. Though they had mended some of their past sores, there was still a world of hurt between them.

He shoved the thoughts away again and put on a smile as he went into Bobby’s house, hearing him on the phone, which was on speaker. Castiel’s heart clenched as he heard Dean’s voice over the speaker. It still shocked his system that Dean was anywhere in his existence, though he had heard him on the phone with Bobby before, this was different. Dean knew he was around.

“You’re on what now?” Bobby asked, squinting to listen harder as Dean repeated himself over the phone.  
  
“One’s green and the other’s red,” Dean mumbled.  
  
“So...you’re poppin’ cold medicine and ya don’t know which kind?” Bobby asked, trying to piece together the babbling Dean was spewing. Bobby gave Castiel a nod, pointing at the phone, explaining in a whisper. “I talked to him two days ago and he had sounded fine. But today is a whole different ballgame. It’s Monday. He never calls during work hours.”   
  
“I forget. It’s the matrix,” Dean babbled on, “Choose the red or choose the green pill. I took the bad pill Bobby. I shoulda stayed at the farm with you. Now I’m just wasting away in an incubator pod...”  
  
“Dean,” Bobby frowned.  
  
“S-s-s-so cold in here,” Dean muttered.  
  
“Dean...do you have a thermometer?” Bobby tapped nervously on the arm of his wheelchair. “Dean!”  
  
“Don’t yell!” Dean groaned. “I’m sorry, Bobby. Shoulda come there a long time ago.”  
  
Bobby looked up from staring blankly at his own lap, shaking a worried look at him.  
  
“Is Dean sick?” Castiel asked. “Is he okay?”

Bobby shrugged, furrowing his brow again with worry. “Do you have a thermometer?” He asked Dean slowly.  
  
“A...yeah.”  
  
“Get it. Take your temperature.” They listened as Dean moaned and shuffled around. He could hear something fall to the floor and Dean groaned again.  
  
“You got it?” Bobby asked.  
  
“Mm,” Dean answered.  
  
They heard the beep as Dean dissolved into a fit of coughing.  
  
“103.”  
  
Bobby looked at the ceiling. “I think you better go to the ER.”  
  
“Okay,” Dean sighed, the sound of his teeth chattering and no more movement told them that Dean wasn’t moving anywhere.   
  
“I’m gonna...I’m gonna head yer way. I think you need some help,” Bobby said.  
  
“Okay,” Dean whispered. “Put the butter in.”  
  
Bobby frowned. “Dean...you ain’t makin’ sense.”  
  
All he got was mumbling in return and another round of coughing followed by moans. Bobby looked up at Castiel, shaking his head in worry again. Bobby tried to get Dean to answer him a few more times and finally gave up.  
  
“Looks like I’m driving to Kansas City.”  
  
“What can I do?” Castiel asked nervously, worrying about him.  
  
“I’m gonna call John. Dean is seriously sick.”  
  
“I thought you said John went to visit a lady friend in Michigan,” Cas said, his frown of worry deepening.  
  
“Shit. Guess I am heading there.” Bobby put the phone back to his mouth, taking it off speaker. “Dean? Dean. You there?” He shook his head at Cas.  
  
Bobby narrowed his eyes at Cas.   
  
Cas glanced around before meeting his eyes again. “What?”  
  
Bobby sat back; phone still half pressed to one ear. “Thought you and Dean were patching things up.”  
  
Cas’ jaw dropped. “Um...”  
  
“You know I know you broke that boys heart, right?”  
  
Cas blushed, looking down at his coffee. “I, uh...”  
  
“You know I also know you are still head over heels for that boy, right?”  
  
“Well...” Cas rubbed the back of his head.  
  
“Don’t you think maybe it’s time you grand gestured to the person that matters? You grand gestured buyin’ half of this place. You grand gesture over and over to me. You think maybe it’s time Dean actually saw just how much you actually give a damn?”  
  
Cas actually broke out into a sweat. “I, uh...”  
  
“You got a fancy GPS in that fancy phone. I’ll text you Dean’s address. You can be there in five hours.”  
  
Cas gaped at him. “He might not really want to see me, Bobby. I gave him my number at Christmas, and he has not called.”  
  
“Do I gotta spell this out any clearer?” Bobby hung the phone up, wheeling past Cas to go into the kitchen. “Here, take him some tea. Some honey. I got chicken noodle soup here somewhere.”  
  
Cas held a hand up as he followed Bobby into the kitchen. “Bobby...he might get very upset if I just show up.”  
  
Bobby whipped his chair around, facing him. “Son, you been pining after my nephew fer ten years.”  
  
Cas bit his lip. “Have I been that obvious?”  
  
“I was born in the morning, but it wasn’t THIS morning.”  
  
Cas nodded, thinking about how easily he only had one wish to write down. One thing he wanted more than anything. Dean. In all honesty, Dean’s forgiveness. He picked up the unopened jar of honey. “You’re right. And if I get shot down, I’ll try again. And again. I won’t stop until he understands that I love him, and I would do anything to repair what we had!”  
  
Bobby nodded with a grin. “Good luck, Cas.”  
  
  
************************************  
  
  
Dean rolled from one bizarre dream to the next. He was so sure Sam needed him or his work was late or Zachariah was in his apartment. All these dreams swirled in and out with odd snippets of Bobby and the farm.  
  
He hated being in the shower. It was too fucking cold. “Lemme out,” Dean muttered, teeth chattering.  
  
“Five minutes, Dean. You promised.”  
  
Dean pouted at the tiled wall in front of him. “Five fucking minutes,” he bitched. “You must want to get back at me for that time I ratted you out for bringing that stray cat in.”  
  
He waited for Sam’s answer.  
  
“The thing had fleas,” Dean insisted.   
  
He shook in the water and hated his life as the minutes ticked by.  
  
“Sam...I thought you were back at school.” Everything seemed so confusing.  
  
“Sam is at school.”  
  
Dean turned toward the shower curtain, staring at the white plastic curtain as if he could see through it. That was not Sam’s voice.  
  
“Okay, you can turn the water off.”  
  
Dean slapped the handle down, hating all the intense cold that was making his body ache and shiver. He clutched at a towel that was pushed between the wall and curtain. He quickly wrapped it around himself, still staring at the white curtain. Another towel was proffered, and he snatched it, wrapping it around his waist, his knees knocking together as he shivered. He pulled the curtain back, staring in shock.  
  
“Oh fuck.” He tugged the curtain back closed.  
  
“Dean?”  
  
“Oh, I’m losin’ it.” Dean pulled the curtain back again, staring hard at Castiel Novak standing outside his shower, head turned away to give him privacy. “What the fucking hell?”  
  
“Dean, I’m only here because you are really sick.”  
  
Dean stared down at his own feet on the floor of his wet shower. “I’m delusional.”  
  
“You have a very high fever, Dean.”  
  
“Yeah. I’ll say. I’m losin’ it. Because there is no way in hell Castiel the know-it-all would stoop to slumming it with a half-assed number cruncher like me.”  
  
“Dean come out of there. You’re shivering.”  
  
Dean stepped out, staring at Cas as if he would vanish at any second. He jumped slightly as the figment pressed the back of his cool hand to his forehead.  
  
“The shower helped a little. Come on.”  
  
He stared as the delusion steered him to his bedroom.  
  
“I changed your sheets and brought you some soup,” Cas said, tossing a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt onto the bed.  
  
Dean stared as Cas left the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
“What the fuck?” Dean said under his breath. He dried himself quickly, pulling the clothes on, diving under the covers to huddle tightly for warmth. His stomach rolled again.   
  
Covers were tugged gently away from him, waking him up. “No, no! I’m cold!”  
  
“I know,” Cas said gently, giving him just a lousy sheet and one friggin’ blanket.  
  
Dean huddled tight, knowing he was losing his mind. He thought CAS was here. Of all people.  
  
“Can you eat a little?”  
  
“No!” Dean hunched tighter in the pitiful blankets. He pulled away from the cool hand on his forehead again.  
  
“I need to take your temperature,” Cas said quietly, pulling him to lie flat.  
  
Dean whined, shivering as the thermometer was put under his tongue. He kept his mouth closed, staring up at Cas. He didn’t look like summer/college Cas. He looked like Christmas Cas. “Why you gotta hate me in my dreams too?”  
  
“Shhh,” Cas grinned. “I don’t hate you anywhere. Past, present, or future.”  
  
Cas fussed with the covers, rubbing his arm softly. The thermometer beeped and Cas pulled it out, frowning at it.  
  
“103. It’s coming down. It was 103.8 when I got here.”  
  
“I want another cover,” Dean groaned.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to keep you cooled off. You’re burning up.”  
  
Dean groaned. “You hate me.”  
  
Cas chuckled. “You are a terrible patient.” He tucked the covers tightly around Dean’s shoulder. “I have never hated you. And I never will.”  
  
“You do.”  
  
Cas’ smile grew sterner. “I do not. I’ve never liked anyone more.”  
  
Dean’s thoughts swam. Cas was here. This was his dream. He might as well enjoy it. “Cas.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Dean grinned. “I missed you.”  
  
Cas’ smile jerked to something more serious. “I have missed you a great deal.”  
  
Dean smiled. Yes, that’s what Cas would say. He let his eyes drift shut. “I love you.”  
  
“Dean...” came the softest whisper.  
  
“Please lay with me. I hurt all over.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Dean grinned. “I’m sure. I’m sure I’m sure.”  
  
  
**************************************  
  
  
  
Castiel felt guilty for laying with Dean. He stayed on top of the covers and got up as soon as Dean fell asleep. He slipped quietly out of the bedroom to take the neglected cup of soup back to the kitchen. He sat on the stool and called Bobby.  
  
“How’s it goin’?” Bobby asked.  
  
“He’s quite ill. His fever is high and I’m struggling to get fluids into him. If he does not improve by morning, I’ll take him to the hospital.”  
  
“And how’d he handle you showin’ up?”  
  
“Well, he thinks I’m not real. He’s quite out of it. I just hope he doesn’t come to and freak out that I’m here. If I get shot, this is completely your fault, Bobby Singer.”  
  
“Huh. Don’t sass me. I wouldn’t have to push you over the edge if you’da jus’ jumped on yer own.”  
  
Cas scrubbed at his forehead. “I hope this isn’t a big mistake.”  
  
“Hey, he needed help.”  
  
“Well, I won’t argue with that.” He looked around the sleek apartment with a shiver of his own. The place was not how he pictured Dean living at all. In fact, he was so sure he was in the wrong place that he had stepped out and checked the key (which Bobby had given him) again in the lock to be sure.  
  
He said goodbye, leaving the phone on the counter to make a pan of jello for Dean to eat tomorrow. After sliding it into the fridge to set, he went back to check on Dean.  
  
The room was dimly lit by a small lamp in the corner. Dean had the blankets drawn tight. Cas sat on the side of the bed, feeling Dean’s forehead again.  
  
“Dean,” he said softly, rubbing his arm.  
  
Dean groaned, curling around him more snuggly.   
  
Cas grinned, stifling a chuckle. “Dean, I need you to sit up and take some medicine.”  
  
“Huh uh.” He curled tighter, stroking the inside of Cas’ thigh.  
  
Cas took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Sit up. Come on.”  
  
Dean sat up and took the medicine, drinking half the glass of water. Cas took his temperature again. “102.8. That’s good, Dean. It’s still coming down.”  
  
“Thank you,” Dean murmured, eyes closed and both hands wrapped around Cas’ hand.  
  
Unable to stop himself. Cas leaned over and kissed Dean softly on the forehead. “Rest, my friend.”  
  
“Love you, Cas,” Dean barely said aloud.  
  
Cas grinned. “Love you more.”  
  
It was a long night of meds and water and bits of crackers and spoonfuls of soup. Dean’s fever was stubborn, but Cas was persistent.  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
January 10, 2020  
  
  
Dean woke with a horrendous taste in his mouth. His throat ached and his body hurt all over. He was sure all that had gotten him through the night was the sound of Cas’ voice and the feel of his steady hands.  
  
Wait a minute...  
  
Dean blinked his eyes hard, pushing his covers back. His room was empty. There were tissues balled up and scattered about. Half a cup of water sat on his night stand.   
  
No one was here but him. “Man...fever dreams.”  
  
The need to pee propelled him out of bed, out of his room, and into the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he frowned at the two towels hanging neatly on drying racks. He had a vague memory of a shower. Of Cas. He distinctly remembered getting straight into bed, tossing the towels to the floor. So...how did they end up here?  
  
Puzzled, he shuffled out of the bathroom. He heard noise in the kitchen and shuffled in, staring at Castiel Novak pouring a glass of orange juice in his kitchen!  
  
“I gotta be losin’ my mind...”  
  
Cas’ hand jerked slightly as he turned to look at Dean. “Dean! You’re up!”  
  
“You’re here!” Dean countered, shivering as cold crept in under his shirt.  
  
Cas sat the glass and pitcher down, coming around the counter slowly. “I came yesterday. You have a high fever.” Cas stepped right up to him, feeling his forehead.  
  
The gesture flashed in Dean’s mind as he remembered Cas doing this in the bathroom, in his bedroom, soup, crackers, water, pills...“Oh god.”  
  
“You feel cooler.” Their eyes met as Cas pulled his hand away.  
  
“Ohhh,” Dean took a step back. “I...”  
  
“Please, Dean...I’m only here to help.”  
  
Dean shook his head gently. What had he said? Had he kissed Cas? Had they made out?  
  
“You’re shivering,” Cas said gently, grabbing a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around Dean’s shoulders. “What can I get you? Soup? Jello? Water? Ginger ale?”  
  
“You’re in my house,” Dean muttered, letting himself be steered back to bed.   
  
“I am,” Cas nodded, like he’d explained this several times before, “I got your keys from Bobby. He sent me because he was worried.”  
  
Dean sat on the bed, turning and lying down as Cas directed him.   
  
“I was worried about you,” Cas went on. “Now, what can I get you?”  
  
“Uh...” Dean huddled into his blankets. “Blankets.”  
  
“Sorry,” Cas gave him a sad smile. “I can’t let you get over heated again. Your fever will go up.”  
  
Dean frowned hard. “Juice.”  
  
“Okay!” Cas got up quickly, heading out of the room.   
  
Dean shuffled through the array of things on his nightstand, finding his phone. It was 7:55am. He sat back up. “I gotta go to work.”  
  
Cas rushed back into the room with three glasses in his hands. “Juice,” he said, offering him one.  
  
Dean took it, swallowing down the small amount.  
  
“And here’s some water,” Cas said, exchanging a glass with him. This one was full. He took two long swallows and felt like he had run a mile.  
  
“I gotta get ready.”  
  
“For what?” Cas asked.  
  
“Work. Some of us have timeclocks and deadlines.”  
  
Cas picked up his phone, handing it to him. “You call off. Your fever is still too high. Call off for tomorrow too.”  
  
Dean stared at him. “Are you nuts? I already missed Monday! I’ve never missed three days!”  
  
“Congratulations,” Cas smiled briefly, pointing at the phone.  
  
“You’re bossy,” Dean snapped.  
  
“You are stubborn,” Cas said patiently.  
  
Dean stared.  
  
Cas pointed at the phone again.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes, going to the online app Adler used. He put in for the two days off and slid his phone onto the nightstand in defeat. He already felt the insurmountable pile of work stacking.  
  
Cas was still fussing with blankets and clothes and tissues around the room. “You don’t have to do that, Cas.”  
  
“Just straightening up so you can rest well,” he answered, keeping himself busy.  
  
Dean took another drink of water and got deeper under his covers.   
  
“Are you hungry?” Cas asked.  
  
“No.” Dean wondered what Zachariah was thinking of his absence. And what exactly had been real about the haze of Cas from yesterday?  
  
“I’ll check on you at nine. You can have medicine then and have something to eat.” Cas left the room with a cursory nod and an armload of laundry.  
  
He still had the North Dakota file in his bag that he had brought home on Friday. The meeting about it was yesterday. Dean tossed to the other side. He should be checking his email. He should be at work. But more than anything, he just wished Cas would come back.  
  
  
*********************************  
  
  
Castiel had updated Bobby, Sam, and John on Dean’s condition. When he had returned at nine, his fever was back close to 103. Dean was restless, antsy, worrying about work and something about farms in North Dakota. He had given him medicine and stayed with him for over an hour. He found that if he talked about most anything, Dean would rest peacefully. He had finally fallen asleep when he told him about his friends Charlie and Kevin. The fever came down quickly this time and Dean managed to sleep for several hours until he woke up near lunchtime in a sweat.  
  
“So hot in here,” Dean complained, shoving his covers off.  
  
Cas felt his forehead. “Oh, Dean, your fever finally broke!”  
  
“Fevers are stupid,” Dean groaned, heading to the bathroom. While he got a shower (completely on his own this time) Cas changed the sheets and made him some soup.  
  
Out of the shower, Dean sat at his breakfast bar for the first time in days. He took the bowl of soup with an uncomfortable nod. “Thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Cas grinned. He stood on the other side, eating his own bowl.  
  
“This is good,” Dean sighed, sipping the broth with a loud slurp.  
  
“I made it in the fall and had it in the freezer,” Cas said, watching him.  
  
Dean sighed into the steam, then took another bite. “Who are you?”  
  
Cas sat his bowl of soup on the counter, catching Dean’s eye as he looked at him quite seriously. “I am not the jerk I used to be, Dean. The know-it-all with dickish morals and lousy timing.”  
  
Dean stared at him. “You weren’t....”  
  
“I was. Dean, I am so sorry for how things went. I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. And I’m very, very sorry if I ever upset you.”  
  
Dean stared again, spoon hovering a few inches from his bowl. “You know it’s really messed up to say shit like that when half the time I still think you’re a figment of my fever dreams.”  
  
Cas frowned down at his soup. “I’m sorry. Yes, I do still have lousy timing.”  
  
Dean stirred the noodles and chunks of chicken. This was better than anything he’d had at any of the artisan cafes in the city. “I didn’t know you could cook.”  
  
“I like to cook. I don’t do it often. Cooking for one is...not much fun. It’s more like work.”  
  
“Yeah. I just pick up or get delivery.” This was so bizarre. They were talking about food. What was next? The weather? The last season of Stranger Things?  
  
They continued to eat in silence until Dean sat back. “Cas...I was planning on calling. Just so ya know. But...” he blew a breath out, feeling chilly again.  
  
“We can talk another time,” Cas urged, rounding the counter quickly to put a blanket around Dean’s shoulders.  
  
Dean hugged it tight. “I’m, uh...it’s cool that you came. But you don’t have to stay.”  
  
Cas met his eyes. “Are you asking me to leave?”  
  
“No!” Dean shivered. “No. I just feel kinda weird letting you take care of me.”  
  
“Well, it is my pleasure.”  
  
Dean half grinned miserably. “I don’t know. The soup isn’t sitting so well. You gonna hold my hair for me?”  
  
“I would,” Cas assured. “Come on. Back to bed for you.”  
  
Dean shuffled again to his bed, letting Cas steer him.   
  
  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
January 11, 2020  
  
  
Castiel had finally fallen asleep on the hard, leather sofa in Dean’s living room. He woke to the sound of coughing and a few thumps in the kitchen.  
  
He sat up, seeing Dean put bread into the toaster.  
  
“I can make you something,” he yawned, getting to his feet.   
  
“I just wanted somethin’ to drink and then...toast sounded good.” They moved around each other as Castiel retrieved Dean’s meds.  
  
“Time for your medicine.”  
  
Dean stopped, staring down at him. “You aren’t getting sick, are you?”  
  
“No,” Castiel grinned. “Your couch sucks.”  
  
“Oh...” Dean gave the sofa a guilty look. “I used to have this nice couch and I slept on it all the time. And I read an article about single guys sleeping on their couch and how it leads to hypertension and the less comfortable your couch is, the less time you’re likely to spend just sitting in it.”  
  
Castiel stared at him. Dean was so different than he used to be. It was odd and he couldn’t quite equate the Dean he knew with the Dean of now.  
  
“Well...good job. It’s terribly uncomfortable.”  
  
Dean stifled a grin. “Sam bitched about it too.”  
  
Their eyes lingered for a moment until Castiel held out pills in his hand.  
  
Dean took them, a little grin toying over his lips as he tossed them back.   
  
“We should take your temperature,” Castiel said softly.   
  
Dean leaned against the counter. “I have so many doctor jokes running in my head right now, ain’t gonna lie.”  
  
Castiel bit his lip, nodding. “Fair.” He handed Dean the thermometer. As Dean put the tip under his tongue, Castiel grinned.   
  
“Wha?” Dean muttered.  
  
“Shh,” Cas laughed. “Would you like some eggs with your toast?”  
  
Dean nodded, shuffling back around the counter to sit on one of the stools. The thermometer beeped. “100.5.”  
  
Castiel nodded. The fever was going away slowly. He busied himself making eggs.  
  
“I usually use egg whites,” Dean said.  
  
“Well, city-boy, you’re having real eggs from real chickens this morning.”  
  
“You did not just say that,” Dean deadpanned.  
  
“If the loafer fits,” Cas grinned.  
  
Dean shook his head in defeat. “Thought you were into loafers,” he muttered. “And how are you just able to be here? Isn’t Bobby missing you around the farm?”  
  
Castiel flipped the eggs and pulled the toast out. “I’m on winter break from teaching at the college. And Bobby doesn’t really need me right now.” He buttered the toast lightly and plated the eggs, sliding the plate to Dean.  
  
“You teach?”  
  
“I do. Would you like some coffee or do you still consider it disgusting?”  
  
Dean huffed. “I live on coffee. It’s probably why I have high blood pressure.”  
  
Castiel would argue it had more to do with his lifestyle, but he was already on thin ice as it was. He started a pot of coffee while Dean ate quietly.  
  
“You don’t have to stay today, if you want to head home,” Dean said quietly.  
  
Cas turned to him. He did look much better. “Are you asking me to leave?” The last thing he wanted to do was wear out his already intrusive welcome.  
  
“No. No...I just feel bad, keeping you from...whatever you’d be doing otherwise.” He kept his eyes on his plate, another flush reddening his cheeks. He always did blush so easily.  
  
“Dean,” he said quietly, wiping the already clean counter in front of Dean, “I want to be here. If it’s okay.”  
  
Their eyes met, as they had earlier. Dean nodded with a twinge of shyness. “Yeah. It’s okay.”  
  
“I have a lot to make up for. And...I am an open book, if you want to know anything.”  
  
Dean grinned at his eggs. “Okay.”  
  
“Sam is not happy that I am here.”  
  
Dean smirked. “Sam can deal with it. He’s just extra bitchy because him and Amelia broke up. She cheated on him and then kicked him out, so, it was pretty brutal.”  
  
Castiel nodded slowly. “He blames me for a lot of things.”  
  
Dean finally looked up at him again. “He’s just...overprotective.”  
  
“I hope he isn’t right.” Castiel fidgeted with the towel in his hand. “Am..am I the reason you left Bobby’s and don’t visit?” He felt like a monster for even asking. And it was the giant fear that had invaded his thoughts for years.  
  
Dean sighed. He pushed his half-eaten breakfast away, pulling his blanket closer around his shoulders. “At first. Yeah. I didn’t come back that next summer because I knew you’d be there. Bobby had said you were coming. And...I guess I thought I’d show you just how mature I was by getting a ‘real job’. Then I went to school and...that mighta been your influence too. Thought I had something to prove. But then...I don’t know...my mom died, and Bobby got hurt and...my dad was so...” He cleared his throat, his eyes searching along the counter in front of him. “I went back right after the accident. Helped Bobby. But...everyone was so...hurt. It just...sucked. So, I buried my head in work. Started at Adler Ag. and just kept going.” His eyes continued to search.   
  
Castiel exhaled a shaky breath. Dean looked up at him curiously. “I have worried for...a long time, that I was the reason your family had...”  
  
“Broken?” Dean supplied with a bitter look. “No. I mean, I took you and me splitting hard. Sam was there and heard all my bitching and moaning but honestly...the accident broke my family. My mom was always busy but...dude...she was the glue that held all of us together. Without her, we just...” he shrugged.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Dean. When I found out, I was so shocked. And I know I sent you a card but...I should have come to see you. I...I thought about you, I think about you all the time.” He clamped his shaky lips closed, staring down at the cloth in his hands that he was fretting with.  
  
“So...where’d you go?” Dean asked.  
  
“Go?”  
  
“Well, I did ask about you. For a couple years you dropped off Bobby’s radar too.”  
  
“Oh. Yes. I was working in a research laboratory with several award-winning scientists. We were quite excited at first. Then our funding evaporated. It turned out improving the bee population took a backseat to decreasing the stink bug population.”  
  
Dean smirked, Cas returning it.  
  
“I left. I hated it. The snobbery. The politics. It was...well, it turns out this guy I met in college already had it all figured out. I longed to be back at the farm, introducing new bees, harvesting alfalfa, inspecting stocks for weevils, chasing off vermin with a pellet gun. Making strawberry wine.”  
  
Dean laughed. “Damn. Strawberry wine. I blush every time Bobby gives me a bottle at Christmas!”  
  
Castiel laughed, feeling extremely more fragile on the inside than what he was portraying. “Me too!”  
  
“09. It was a good year,” Dean grinned down at the counter.  
  
“The sweetest,” Cas agreed, talking about more than the vintage of that year’s wine. Memories of Bobby’s cellar filled his mind. Their first kiss. So many other make-out sessions when they were supposed to be stirring the crocks. Dean, so eager to learn and so damn good at everything he had taught him.  
  
Dean got to his feet. “I think I’m gonna...lay down.”  
  
“Yes!” Castiel nodded. “You should!”  
  
Dean headed toward his room, coming back up the short hall, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. “You’ll still be here when I get up, right?”  
  
“Yes,” Castiel said softly, elated at the little look of relief on Dean’s face. “I thought I would run to the store and get ingredients to make soup. What kind would you like?”  
  
Dean did meet his eyes, more than soup obviously on his mind. “Surprise me.” He turned back down the hall and went into his bedroom.  
  
Castiel leaned back against the refrigerator, staring up at the ceiling. He had done it. He had talked to Dean! Really talked! And no one had yelled! His heart soared and he balled the cloth under his chin with the biggest grin he had had in a very long time.  
  
“I forgot to get coffee.”  
  
Castiel jumped, knowing Dean had caught the look of adoration. He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he darted to get a mug out of the cabinet.  
  
Dean stood there, not fighting off a grin very well, watching as Castiel poured him a cup and handed it to him.  
  
“Glad I dusted the cobwebs away up there,” Dean smirked. “Ya know, since you’re checking out my ceilings.”  
  
Castiel blushed harder still, biting his lip.  
  
Dean lifted the mug in cheers as he turned to go back to his room.  
  
Castiel grinned like a hopeless fool.   
  
  
*******************************  
  
  
Dean woke up in another sweat. His head felt better but he couldn’t believe how tired he was. He sat up, smiling at his half-drunk cup of coffee. The look on Cas’ face when he walked into the kitchen earlier was priceless. There was no questioning the guy’s motives. And there was no denying that it made him feel pretty damn happy.  
  
He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his t-shirt off to mop his sweaty face and neck, tossing it to his hamper in the corner. He picked up his cell phone. He had multiple messages from work, which he scrolled through without reading, and several from Bobby, Sam, and even his dad.  
  
He texted Bobby and Sam to tell him he was alive, thanks to Cas.  
  
Sam’s reply was sarcastic, but not as nasty as he had expected.  
  
He called his dad to let him know he was alright. He was headed home from his friend’s in Michigan tomorrow and offered to stop by, but Dean told him not to. He was planning on going back to work tomorrow. He ended the call, having planned to visit his dad in January, weather permitting. His dad still sounded better than he had in years. He was immensely relieved that his dad was doing better. And he had promised himself he would keep a closer eye on him, not letting them drift apart like they had.  
  
He looked up at a soft knock on the door. “Dean?”  
  
“Yeah?” He put the phone back on his night stand and stood up as Cas walked in.  
  
“You’re up!”  
  
“Yeah. I think my fever broke again.”  
  
Cas stepped forward, feeling Dean’s forehead. “You feel great!”  
  
“I feel gross,” Dean frowned, the haze of fever gone, he realized just how bad he must look. “I’m gonna get a shower.” He ran a hand over the scruff of beard on his face and knew his hair looked insane.  
  
Cas stepped out of his room, moving into the living room.  
  
“I’ll be out in a few,” Dean said, glancing at himself in the mirror. “God. You look like shit.”  
  
He started with a nice warm shower, ending with a clean shave. On his way back to his room, he caught a whiff of grilled cheese. He got dressed as his stomach rumbled loudly in complaint. In sweatpants and a t-shirt, he came out to the kitchen. “Are you making grilled cheese sandwiches?”  
  
“I am,” Cas answered, turning to sit a plate on the counter. “And tomato soup.”  
  
“Oooohhhh yeees!”  
  
“You’re hungry,” Cas grinned, putting a bowl of soup next to his plate.  
  
“Friggin’ starved! This is awesome! Man, I haven’t been sick and this taken care of since -” He stopped abruptly, giving Cas a guilty smile. “Since Mom.”  
  
Cas smiled, sitting his own plate and bowl at the seat next to Dean’s. “Your fever was very high. You were incoherent when I got here.”  
  
“Damn.” Dean shook his head. “I have no idea what I said or did. I hope I wasn’t an asshole.”  
  
Cas chuckled. “You were...well, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad I could come.”  
  
Dean, after swallowing a large bite of dipped sandwich, said, “Was I a dick?”  
  
“No,” Cas said, not looking at him.  
  
“I was, wasn’t I?”  
  
Cas swallowed his bite. “You called me a bastard several times. Mostly my presence just confused you. You called me Sam several times.”  
  
“And?” Dean wondered, wondering just what jostled memories were real and which ones were delirium.  
  
Cas shook his head. “You were quite miserable.”  
  
Dean sat back, really looking at Cas. “We didn’t...sleep together, did we?”  
  
Cas’ mouth froze mid chew, then continued slowly, his eyes darting from his bowl to Dean and back. “You, um, asked me to lay with you. I did, but only because you were getting quite upset. It was all the fever, and I got up as soon as you fell asleep.”  
  
Dean groaned. “Maaaan.” The slippery memories of that swam through his mind. “You told me...”  
  
Cas swallowed another bite of soup. “Dean, you were very sick.”  
  
Dean stabbed his soup with his next triangle of sandwich, stuffing an enormous bite into his mouth. It tasted delicious. But it wasn’t distracting enough to stop the memory of telling Cas that he loved him. He was quite sure that one was real. And Cas had said it back. To placate him, surely, but still the words were there like bricks he suddenly couldn’t see around.  
  
Cas was eating his soup slowly with a very worried look on his face.  
  
Dean sighed, dunking his last bite of sandwich. “I was just feverish. Anything I said was...just my messed-up head.”  
  
Cas nodded, forced a smile, and took another spoonful of soup. “I was just helping you.”  
  
Dean nodded resolutely. He drank the rest of his soup, finished a glass of water, and was completely wiped out.  
  
“I’m so friggin’ tired,” Dean said. If only Cas knew just how tired he was. Tired of being scorned by his first love. Tired of this life he had worked himself so hard into. Tired of his family being sad.  
  
“Would you like to watch a movie?” Cas asked, eating his sandwich in tiny bites.   
  
Dean laid his head on his crossed arms on the counter. “That sounds good.”  
  
He let Cas clean up their dinner as the weight of everything pulled at his leaden bones.   
  
Cas turned from the sink, catching Dean watching him. He shut the water off, drying his hands. He stood there a moment, seeming like he would say something, but at the last second, his face took on a cheerier slant. “Come on. What would you like to watch?”  
  
Dean followed him with his eyes as Cas rounded the counter, moving into the living room. Dean followed him like a moth to a flame.  
  
They sat at opposite ends of the couch, Cas handing him the remote. He took it, sliding his thumb over the power button without pressing it. When Cas had left all those years ago, Dean had let him. Their relationship had been left untended. No real effort was put into it on either of their parts once they were separated. It was time to let that wilted, dying relationship go. Time to bury what was lost and regrow something new. The seeds were there. The potential for new growth and new chances. It was all there in Cas’ gentle eyes. His open, waiting expression.  
  
Dean licked his lips as his thumb slid over and over the power button without pressing it. “Cas...can...”  
  
Cas’ head tilted, his awaiting face taking on the worry of his caretaking. “Anything. What can I get you?” He scooted to the edge of his seat, poised to get up.  
  
Dean stammered, freezing in his newly forming thoughts. “Can we...”  
  
Cas looked eager enough to pounce.  
  
Lost for words or even what to do, Dean handed the remote back to Cas. “You pick.”  
  
Castiel looked at the remote as if it were a foreign object. He met Dean’s eyes again. “I pick you, Dean.”  
  
“W-what?” Dean asked, dumbfounded.  
  
Cas stared down at the remote, his thumb running over the power button, as if touching it was like touching Dean. And maybe it was, in a tiny way. He recalled how he would grip the gear shift of the tractor all those years ago. As if touching what Dean had touched would suffice in needing to touch him.  
  
Cas frowned down at the remote. “I was so full of myself back then. I thought I had to succeed. That success equaled happiness.” His eyes lifted to Dean’s. “I had success and it was cold and empty. There were a few bright moments of joy, but Dean...I threw away the best chance I ever had at happiness. I...I want to...if you ever wanted to give me a second chance...I would strive every day to show you that I was a fool then. I would never ruin another opportunity! I would never hurt you again! I swear!” His pleading eyes tugged at Dean’s heart, along with the astonishing words.  
  
Dean sat forward, their eyes locked and holding. “Cas...”  
  
Cas broke the gaze, standing up. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so sick. I was trying to wait before I said anything.” He still held the remote, circling his thumb around the button.  
  
Dean stood as soon as he did, not ready for their eye contact to end, let alone let him move away. “You want what...to try dating again?”  
  
Cas looked up at him, regret in his eyes. “I’m really messing this up. I had a plan. Texts, then call you, then asking to visit. I, I.”  
  
Dean’s heart pounded into action. Cas was trying to get him back. He was so stunned to find the ball was in his court when he hadn’t realized they were even playing ball! He stepped forward, cutting Cas’ babbling off with a kiss.  
  
Memory surged. This was the first mouth Dean had fallen in love with. Spent countless hours under the summer moon kissing. He heard Cas gasp, pulling back to get half a breath before stepping forward, kissing him back harder. He felt the remote against the back of his head before he heard it hit the firm, leather couch. Cas cradled him so tenderly that it took Dean’s breath.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Cas gasped, kissing him again.  
  
Dean pulled back, staring into those blue eyes he had sworn to forget. Fought to erase. “It’s okay, Cas. We were kids.”  
  
Cas shook his head, his eyes so full of remorse that Dean felt all the years of bad feelings die away. “I had the world that summer! I threw it away before giving us a real chance to grow into something more! I swear -”  
  
Dean kissed him again. “Stop beating yourself up, Cas. It’s forgiven.” He kissed him again, hugging him closer.  
  
“Dean, you’re so hot,” Cas whispered.  
  
“So are you,” Dean grinned.  
  
Cas blushed, one hand coming up to feel his forehead. “You are incredibly attractive. But I was actually talking about your temperature.”  
  
“Oh,” Dean grinned again, sagging onto Cas’ shoulder, wanting to keep holding him, touching him. “Please don’t let this be a fever dream.”  
  
Cas chuckled. “Medicine time. And would I be overstepping if I suggest laying in your bed to watch a movie?” Cas pulled back, his eyes so tender and caring that Dean would do anything to make them shine again.  
  
“Sounds so good,” Dean said tiredly. “Don’t get too excited. I’m probably going to fall asleep.”  
  
Cas grinned, hugging Dean tight to him. They stood together for quite some time, just taking each other in. Cas turned his head, his lips pressing against Dean’s cheek. “Come on. Let me take care of you.”  
  
  
  
**********************************************  
  
  
  
They spent the late afternoon watching random shows on TV. Dean mostly slept. Castiel mostly daydreamed with a hopeful grin. Dean kept a hand on him at all times and it gave Castiel an excuse to touch his hands, trace a finger up his forearm, and watch him sleep.  
  
Every freckle was perfection. Every hair so artfully tousled. He couldn’t believe his luck. Dean Winchester was willing to give him another chance!  
  



	7. Second Taste of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is feeling better. Let’s see how this plays out!

Chapter 7: Second Taste of Love  
  
  
Dean woke on Thursday morning feeling tired, but otherwise perfect. He insisted on returning to work but had asked Castiel to stay.  
  
Castiel busied himself doing laundry and getting dinner. He did not care for city life. He never had. But he was making do in Dean’s neighborhood. As he walked the four blocks back to Dean’s apartment from the little grocery store, he kept replaying the memory of kissing Dean in the living room the night before. He had felt like everything was falling apart, like he would never be able to make up for breaking up with Dean before. And then...the only man he had ever truly loved had stood up and taken charge, kissing him. And oh, how sweet it was. How right and how incredibly perfect. He shivered in the winter’s stiff winds that gusted harshly, dodging back into the apartment building.  
  
He struggled into the apartment as his phone began ringing. Already on the fourth ring by the time he fished it from his pocket, he answered it hastily.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Dude! Where have you been!” Came Charlie’s voice, demanding and chipper, per usual.  
  
“Hold on.” He laid the phone on the counter, putting the bags next to it and hit the speaker phone. “I just got back from the store.”  
  
“So, you’re home?”  
  
“No...” he had told no one but Bobby and Marv of his trip to Dean’s. It was not unusual for him to go a week or so over break without speaking to his friends. “I’m...”  
  
“I stopped at your house on Tuesday and then again yesterday. The place looks like a ghost town.”  
  
“Yes...well, I’m away.”  
  
“Away where? You never go anywhere! What about Bert and Ernie?”  
  
Castiel rolled his eyes as he put items into the refrigerator. “I do go places. And Marv is watching them for me.”  
  
“Bobby’s? That so doesn’t count.”  
  
Castiel smirked at the phone. Charlie knew him too well. “I’m at a friend’s.”  
  
“Well, it isn’t Kevin’s. He said he hasn’t seen you either. Spill, Professor Go-nowhere-ever-Novak.”  
  
“I’m at Dean’s.” As he put a box of instant oatmeal packs into the cabinet, he heard a noise from the living room. He looked over the counter, shocked to see Sam sitting on the sofa, watching him. The pair’s eyes met as Castiel’s heart thumped into overdrive at someone else being there. And then at the stern set of Sam’s jaw.  
  
“Best-night-of-my-life Dean?” Charlie squawked.  
  
Castiel blanched as Sam’s face grew even more rigid. “Best TIME of my life!” Cas corrected, wanting to die.  
  
“How the hell did that happen?” She asked. “Wasn’t he your first crush? First love?”  
  
“Yes,” Castiel murmured, snatching the phone to take it off speaker and press it back to his ear. “I’m at his apartment in Kansas City. He’s been quite ill, and I was taking care of him.”  
  
“I bet you were!” She laughed. Castiel thanked himself for getting her off of speaker so quickly. “So, is this like a rekindled romance or what?”  
  
“Um, maybe,” he answered. “Can I call you back tonight? I really gotta go.”  
  
“Is he naked? Did I just totally interrupt a moment?!”  
  
“No!” He snapped again. She certainly had caused a moment. An unpleasant one, by the look on Sam’s face. “I’ll explain later.”  
  
“In more than ten words!” She yelled. “Like, details and explanations!”  
  
“Yes, yes,” he hurried. “Goodbye, Charlie.”  
  
“Bye heartbreaker!” She laughed.  
  
He ended the call, the innocent tease reminding him that he was the jerk years ago that did break Dean’s heart. Like he could forget.  
  
He fidgeted with the phone, knowing he looked guilty as hell to Sam. He slid the phone into his pocket, facing whatever Sam had to say.  
  
“Hello, Sam.”  
  
“Hello, Cas. What are you still doing here?”  
  
Castiel rubbed the back of his neck nervously, suddenly feeling like an intruder and a monster. “I came to take care of Dean.”  
  
“Dean’s back to work,” Sam stated. “So...”  
  
Castiel licked his chapped lips, struggling for any way to re-connect with Sam. “He asked me to stay,” he said quietly. “I was just about to start dinner.”  
  
Sam nodded slowly. “Dean’s been living alone for years. I don’t think he really needs a babysitter.”  
  
Castiel felt defeated before this interaction even began. But he was here. And Dean wanted him here. He pulled the chicken out of the bag, sitting it next to the sink. “He was quite ill when I arrived. He wasn’t making sense and Bobby was very concerned.” He sighed, hating that the adorable boy that he had known was a full-grown man that now hated him. “I was concerned,” he added, glancing at Sam again.  
  
Sam got up, coming to sit at one of the stools at the counter, watching him work. It made Castiel extremely nervous.   
  
“Do you know how badly you wrecked Dean’s life?” Sam asked, his brown eyes hard and sharp.  
  
Castiel pulled a baking pan out of a cabinet and sprayed it with cooking spray.  
  
“Do you have any idea how hard it was for him? Because of you, he came out to our parents, he was heartbroken, and he moved away and never came back.”  
  
Castiel knew better, but it hurt anyway. No wonder Sam was so angry. He washed his hands and began putting the pieces of chicken in the pan. “I know your brother and I had a bad break-up, Sam. But I am not the reason he doesn’t live in Lawrence or Sioux Falls.” He seasoned the chicken and preheated the oven, very aware of Sam’s constant stare. He washed his hands again and turned, leaning against the counter to face his executioner head on. “I have apologized to Dean about how we left things. I was...”  
  
“A dick?”  
  
Castiel frowned. “I was very ideological back then. And Dean was very...young.”  
  
“Not too young to fool around with for the summer though,” Sam asserted.  
  
Castiel sighed. “I feel quite guilty about the whole thing, Sam. But I did love him at the time.”  
  
Sam did not look convinced.  
  
“I heard you recently went through a very bad break-up.”  
  
Sam’s countenance clouded. “You don’t know shit about me.”  
  
Castiel sighed. “I actually know quite a lot about you. Bobby talks about you all the time. He said he thought you and Amelia might get married. He was surprised at the turn of events. I also assured him that you are smart, handsome, charming, and sure to find someone, the right someone, who will fit perfectly with you.” Castiel met Sam’s softening eyes. “I know it hurt, but you’ll find love again.”  
  
Sam shifted uncomfortably.   
  
Castiel put the chicken in the oven and started chopping lettuce for a salad, keeping his eyes and hands busy to fight how nervous Sam made him. “I also know you’re doing great in school and have started your fieldwork. How is that going?”  
  
Sam huffed. “So, you’re just...back. We’re gonna be friends?”  
  
“That is the plan,” Castiel said quietly. He kept chopping, waiting for the next volley.  
  
“I’m workin’ with this vet named Dr. Gaines. He’s kinda weird. And the receptionist, Becky, has some kinda ridiculous crush on me.”  
  
Castiel relaxed, hearing Sam sound like Sam again. He started chopping carrots as he grinned. “Sounds interesting.”  
  
“Dude, she falls all over herself and gets this manic kind of grin every time I have to talk to her.”  
  
Castiel glanced up in time to see Sam make an impression of said receptionist with wide, glassy eyes that looked a mix between adoration and predatory. He laughed. “Okay, so not the one.”  
  
“At all!” Sam laughed. “I’m sure she’s a nice girl. But she kinda freaks me out.” He watched as Castiel tossed the carrots in and started on tomatoes and cucumbers.  
  
“There’s no need to rush back into things,” Castiel offered. “It probably won’t help you feel better.”  
  
Sam nodded. “So...what did you do after you broke up with Dean?”  
  
Castiel’s blade froze. He continued chopping, but with less enthusiasm. “Dated another entomology major. It seemed so much more in line with the rest of my life. It seemed like what I was supposed to do. And for a time, we were happy. But I learned a lot about myself over those two years.”  
  
Sam nodded, actually listening instead of yelling.  
  
Castiel tossed the vegetables into the salad and stared at Sam. “I am sorry for hurting your brother. He told me that it did affect his decision to leave and go to school.”  
  
Sam nodded again, looking less comfortable but still listening.  
  
“But he stayed away after...your mom. He said the accident broke your family.”  
  
Sam stared at him; eyes shocked.   
  
“He said this Christmas was the best he’s had in many years,” Castiel went on. “Even running into me.”  
  
Sam blew a breath out. “I guess that makes sense. Dean left for school and hardly ever came home. Then mom. I just...I always blamed you. For everything. This stupid apartment. That horrible couch.”  
  
“Truly horrible,” Castiel agreed, getting a quick grin from Sam.  
  
“Dad has been so depressed. And mean. He gets...dark. And rather than try to fix it, I guess I just spent a lot of time blaming. Blaming you for ruining Dean. Blaming God for ruing Bobby and taking my mom. Blaming Dad for not coping better.” He rubbed his face with both hands, his hair falling around them before he ran both hands back through his hair, his eyes red and near tears. “Sorry, Cas.”  
  
Castiel shrugged. “I was not innocent.”  
  
“But you weren’t the devil I made you out to be. Jeez. It’s not like you were married with kids. Hell, you guys were young. You didn’t know what you were doing.”  
  
“Actually, Dean knew exactly what he was doing.” Flashes of his and Dean’s first kiss in the cellar crashed back so hard he could smell strawberries. “He had it all figured out. And I...” his breath caught at the mistake he had made. At what he had lost by walking away. The time that never could be regained. “I love your brother very much. I wish I would have tried harder to keep us together. But the truth of the matter is, I never loved anyone like I loved him. And I would very much like to try to fix what we lost ten years ago.”  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
“And it would feel much more possible if you could find it in yourself to forgive me. Or at least give me a chance to fix things.”  
  
Sam gave him a lopsided grin. “That’s up to Dean.”  
  
Castiel nodded. “Of course. But he cares very much what you think.”  
  
“I think...everyone deserves a second chance.”  
  
The pair exchanged the friendliest grin they’d had in over ten years.  
  
“Thank you, Sam.”  
  
Sam’s face took on a stern look. “But you better not get five steps into this and back out again. All in or all out.”  
  
Castiel’s chest filled with relief. “I am all in. For the long haul. I feel like my life has been on hold since we parted.”  
  
Sam grinned again. “Best night of your life Dean, huh?”  
  
Castiel blushed, getting a pot out of the cabinet to start making rice. “Time. Best TIME of my life. Charlie tends to remember things the way she wants to.”  
  
Sam laughed. “She sounds like fun.”  
  
Castiel grinned. “She is. You’ll have to meet her. She works at the college with me. Next time you visit Bobby, we can all get together.”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m planning to go to his place in two weeks. I’m trying to get an internship with a vet in the area named Dr. Hawkins.”  
  
Castiel grinned again. “Well, let her know you’re Bobby’s nephew. You’ll be a shoe-in.”

Sam grinned boyishly. “I guess this was a pretty good Christmas. Dean’s right. It’s the best holiday we’ve had since I was little. Dean took off work, which was,” he huffed, “a friggin’ miracle. Reconnected with Bobby. I mean, we talk, but...I’ve just been so busy. And Dad. We talk almost every day now.” He laughed, shaking his head softly. “And...you. I mean, you were always this elephant in the room to tiptoe around so Dean didn’t get pissed or sad. And you were just friggin’ there!” 

Castiel remembered seeing Dean that first time. “It was quite shocking.”

“Thanks for taking care of Bobby so much. Sorry I was such a dick about the farm and stuff. It just shocked me.”

Castiel frowned at memories of arguing with Bobby about telling John or Dean about selling him half of the farm. Bobby had been adamant that neither of them got bogged down with his money problems. And he had been too chicken to call Dean himself.

“I’m glad I could help. Bobby truly is like family to me. He and I always worked well together. I’m just sorry there was such poor communication amongst us. All of us.”

Sam snorted a laugh. “My mom always said the Winchesters men were horrible communicators.” He stared off at the cabinets ahead of him, seeing something much different. “My mom would be so disappointed in all of us.”

Castiel frowned. He put a comforting hand on Sam’s arm. “I think she would want us all to do better. And I think everyone is trying. And I will gladly be the first to extend a peace offering.” He met Sam’s eye steadily. “I’m going to fix this.”

Sam nodded. “Dean’s right though. You didn’t break it. You were just so easy to blame.”

Castiel nodded at that. His timing with Dean had always been off. 

“So...can you make macaroni and cheese?” Sam grinned.

“Yes,” Castiel chuckled, pulling out a box. “I suppose that would work.”

“I just like making Dean eat unhealthy stuff every now and then. He gets all nervous from those whack-a-doodle coworkers of his!”

  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
Dean drug through his day. The minutes ticked by so slowly he was sure his clock hated him. Zachariah had been away all morning at a meeting, giving him some peace to catch up on his insanely back-logged emails. The soup Cas had packed him for lunch was a welcome respite from the rounds of salads being handed out at lunch time. And if the little gnome in his Zen garden could talk, it would report that he had eaten the entire bowl with a dopey grin on his face. Cas had stayed with him all evening, watching movies, and talking about old times, carefully avoiding mention of their summer at Bobby’s farm, or their romantic pasts.  
  
They had touched so many times. Simple, innocent touches that might be fairly middle school level playing field, but it had been nice.  
  
Really nice.  
  
Cas had slept on the sofa, poor guy. But Dean managed to brave another kiss before he went to bed. It was slow and smooth and made his toes curl just thinking about it. There hadn’t even been tongue, but it was pretty damn sultry anyway.  
  
And then this morning, before he left, Cas had nervously kissed him goodbye. Dean grinned again as he thought about it. It had been a peck. A simple kiss with a bright smile that followed it.  
  
God. No one could undo him like Castiel Novak.  
  
A quick knock on his half-open door had him looking away from his computer, all his fuzzy thoughts scattering.  
  
“Dean! Back to the land of the living, I see!” Zachariah spouted, wide blue eyes not even in the same spectrum as Cas’.  
  
“Yeah,” he huffed. “Barely.”  
  
“Where’s the file I asked you for?”  
  
No beating around the bush on this. Dean had been dreading it all day. He had taken the North Dakota file home last Friday. He had received a slew of emails, texts, and phone calls about it on Monday and Tuesday. Yesterday had been radio silence, making Dean just as anxious.  
  
“Yeah, I looked around for it, but it was here on Friday. I’m not sure who moved it or who took it.”  
  
Zachariah narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Great. Now it will have to wait another month to get turned into accounting! Just because you get the sniffles, Winchester, doesn’t mean you get to shirk all your duties. Find that file! Or re-run the report! I want it before you leave today.”  
  
Dean’s stomach sunk. “That won’t be possible,” he said quietly.  
  
“Excuse me?” Zachariah demanded.  
  
“Yeah...” Dean stood up, grabbing his jacket. “I’m leaving now. I think I have a fever again. I’ll, uh, look at home again for the file. Not sure what happened to it.”  
  
Zachariah’s eyes bulged. “This isn’t Wal-Mart! You don’t just come and go as you please!”  
  
Dean grit his jaw. “I rarely ever miss work, Mr. Adler. Hardly ever! I’m just too sick. I gotta go.”  
  
Zachariah stormed out of the office. Dean pulled his leather jacket on and grabbed his briefcase. He just wanted to be at home.  
  
  
Dean shivered as he turned his key in the lock. When he walked into his apartment, he was startled to see Sam sitting at his kitchen island, Cas leaning against the counter talking to him. He was surprised to see Sam. But he was more surprised the two men had been alone and there wasn’t blood anywhere.  
  
“Hello, Dean.”  
  
“Hey!” Sam said excitedly, getting up from his stool.  
  
“What the hell?” He said slowly, his eyes going from one to the other.  
  
“Wow! You look tired,” Sam said, worry crinkling his brow and forehead.  
  
Cas came toward him, feeling his forehead. “I knew it was too soon for you to go back.”  
  
“I left two hours early,” Dean defended himself. “I’m beat.”  
  
Cas came after him with a thermometer. “I hope you told them you wouldn’t be in tomorrow.”  
  
“I’m not sure what I’ll do.” Dean shook his head. “Sam, what are you doin’ here?”  
  
“I came to check on you!” Sam grinned.  
  
Dean looked between the two again. They weren’t killing each other. They weren’t even fighting. He was too tired to figure out what exactly was happening.  
  
“I was just starting dinner,” Cas said gently, steering him toward his bedroom. “It won’t be ready for a while, so you might as well lay down.”   
  
Dean stopped, shaking his head. “I’m tired, but I’m fine. I left work because...” he swallowed, shaking his head again. “I have complicated shit going on at work and I’m just...tired.”  
  
“Well, at least sit down and rest,” Cas amended, removing his hand from the small of Dean’s back. “Sam?” Cas said, turning to the one person Dean listened to the most.  
  
“Yeah! Come on,” Sam waved, sitting in the chair in the living room. Dean gave Cas a quick grin, meeting his eyes briefly before turning to follow Sam.   
  
Dean sat at one end of the sofa. “This couch really does suck.”  
  
“Yes,” Cas agreed brightly as Sam laughed.  
  
Dean took the thermometer that Cas kept offering him. He stuck it in his mouth with an eye roll to Sam. When it beeped, he handed it to Cas, knowing he wanted to see it anyway.   
  
“99,” Cas tisked, shaking his head at Dean. “You are over-doing it.”  
  
Dean shrugged with an apologetic grin.  
  
“I’m impressed you stayed home at all,” Sam said.  
  
“Yeah. Lotta good it did me. My email is six pages deep and Adler was all over my ass about a file. Maybe I will stay off tomorrow.”  
  
Cas grinned happily as he cleaned the thermometer.  
  
Dean let the stress of Zachariah and the dreaded file slide to a forgotten back burner while Sam told him about his first fieldwork placement and Cas finished prepping dinner.  
  
Sam seemed to be doing well. The draining sadness Amelia had left him with seemed to be healing, giving Dean hope that his baby brother would move on in all aspects of his life, not just with his schooling. By this point, Cas seemed to be busying himself, rather than joining them. He watched as Cas had plates and utensils set out on the counter for the three of them and was now staring at the oven, trying to think of something to occupy himself with.  
  
“Cas,” Dean said, getting his attention instantly. “Would you make me some coffee?”  
  
Cas scrunched his mouth in thought. “What about some tea? Honey would probably feel good on your throat.”  
  
Dean groaned. “You know who drinks tea? Boring adults.”  
  
Cas laughed. “I remember when you said that about coffee, now look at you.”  
  
Dean sighed, sliding down in his couch. He did remember saying that as he teased Cas all those summers ago. He grinned, thinking about Cas laughing as they laid in the grass by the water. The secrets they whispered into the nights. The kisses they stole when no one could see. Like summer’s heat from the memories alone could warm his skin, he let his head lay back and his thoughts drift.  
  
“You staying the night?” Dean asked.  
  
“I was planning on it,” Sam answered. “Your couch is already full though.”  
  
Dean grinned up at the ceiling. “We’ll make room.”  
  
Cas came into the living room a few minutes later, putting a warm cup of tea in his hands. Dean had to restrain himself from wanting to snuggle up with the delivery boy. When Cas turned, looking like he was heading back to the kitchen, Dean put a foot up on the coffee table, blocking Cas’ way. Cas looked down at him with a grin. Dean tipped his head toward the other end of the sofa as he pulled his leg back.   
  
Cas bit his lip with a little grin as he took the seat at the other end.   
  
Dean relaxed, sipping the fragrant tea that he had to admit tasted pretty good, as Sam and Cas talked about the classes Cas taught at school.  
  
Halfway through his tea, his eyes were drifting shut. He sat the cup on the table, feeling warm and so, so tired. He leaned over, laying his head on Cas’ lap, making himself comfortable while the two talked. Sam’s talking had stuttered briefly, but he went on. Dean just grinned at the ease at which Cas let him in, lifting his arm and giving him a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. As his thoughts slipped away, he felt Cas spread a blanket over him and indulged in the way his fingers made slow, steady strokes through his hair. He felt a million times better right here than when he had been at his office. He pushed thoughts of work away again as he slipped into a peaceful nap.  
  
  
*********************************************  
  
  
Castiel loved being with Dean and Sam. The way they teased each other so easily. The way they cared, even though they brushed it off as nothing. Sam seemed to have put his anger behind him, much to Castiel’s relief. He and Sam had talked quite a bit about a great many things as Dean napped. Through dinner they were all able to enjoy each other’s company.   
  
Castiel could feel the start of something new. The smiles he got from Dean and the easy banter of the brothers was like medicine to a soul that had grown weary with ‘what ifs’.   
  
“I’m gonna run down to the car and get my bag,” Sam said, putting the container of leftovers in the fridge.  
  
As soon as the door shut, Castiel took the opportunity to talk to Dean. He was frowning down at his phone, probably reading another email. He seemed to get them nonstop.  
  
Castiel sat on the stool next to him, facing him. Though they had touched quite frequently last night, and kissed several times now, all of which had been pretty innocent in nature, they needed to actually talk.  
  
Dean looked up from his phone, turning it over to lay it face down on the counter as their eyes met.  
  
“Dean, Sam is staying the night. Would you like me to head home?”  
  
“No,” Dean said easily. “You could stay in my room. With me. I mean...”  
  
Castiel’s grin must have given him away because Dean was grinning back. He was stunned further when Dean took his hand and said shyly, “I missed you today.”  
  
Castiel’s heart was melting. He pulled Dean’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “I missed you. I have missed you for a very long time.”  
  
A shade of understanding flashed through Dean’s eyes with a little nod. He leaned forward kissing him, chaste but slow. Castiel had to fight to not follow his mouth when it backed away, to not embrace Dean the way he wished to, to kiss him deeply, to strip the clothes from the body he was more than eager to see, and to have him again, to hold him as he filled him.  
  
Again, Dean must have read something in the look on his face. His grin grew slowly into a pretty self-assured smirk. “When do you have to go back?”  
  
Castiel sighed, thinking about his neglected cats and the chores that were stacking up at the farm. “Sunday, if you’ll have me that long.”  
  
Dean squeezed his hand again. “That would be good.”  
  
Castiel nodded. He did not want to think about leaving. He did not want to face a life without Dean in it. Now that they were tiptoeing into something new...he hated to think about the possibility of it fading again. He would do all he could to fuel the fire that kindled between them now. But Dean might not be willing to risk a similar situation than the one that broke them the first time around.   
  
“What ever you’re worrying about,” Dean said quietly, “stop. We aren’t kids anymore, Cas.”  
  
Castiel nodded again. “Dean, I want you to know that I would love there to be something more between us. I would like to see you. A lot. I...” he struggled to put more words to the feelings of want, need, and love that circled in his mind day and night since he saw Dean standing in Bobby’s hallway.   
  
“I know,” Dean said back softly, jolting Castiel’s swirling thoughts.  
  
“You know,” he grinned.  
  
“You really don’t have a poker face, ya know. It’s been pretty easy to read you, well, always.”  
  
Castiel blushed, making Dean grin even harder.  
  
The door opened and heat flooded Castiel’s cheeks. Sam’s eyes darted so quickly between the two that Castiel was paranoid of Sam’s judgement, but the brother had easily seen that they were sitting side by side holding hands now.  
  
“I’m gonna crash on the couch, if that’s okay,” Sam said breezily as he slung his duffle bag at the foot of the sofa. “And I have clinic notes I need to work on, so I’ll just be busy.”  
  
Dean smirked at his brother. “Sam, you don’t have to act like you’re busy.”  
  
Sam scoffed. “Dude, this is no act. I’m freakin’ backed up as hell on my clinic notes. So far, that’s what sucks the most.”  
  
“Really?” Dean asked, watching Sam pull a laptop from his backpack. “It’s not the people or putting animals down?”  
  
Sam shrugged. “Putting animals down is part of life. I’m glad to be able to provide peace for them. And being with families while they go through that is special. Even if it is sad.”  
  
Dean shook his head. “Where is Riot?”  
  
Sam grinned. “Becky offered to dog-sit.”  
  
Castiel frowned. “You don’t think that will encourage her crush on you?”  
  
Sam shrugged. “I’ve told her I’m completely off the market. I’m not dating anyone anytime soon. I think it’s time I just focus on being a vet and let things just fall into place. The right person will come along eventually.”  
  
Castiel and Dean exchanged a soft grin.  
  
Dinner was cleaned up and the living room was taken, so Castiel stood up, pulling Dean with him.   
  
“Night, Sammy,” Dean grinned.  
  
“Night!” Sam waved without looking away from his laptop.  
  
“Goodnight, Sam,” Castiel added.  
  
“Night, Cas.”  
  
They went into the bedroom, turning to stare at each other as Dean closed the door. “It’s kinda early to go to bed.”  
  
“We could watch a movie,” Castiel suggested.  
  
“Sounds good to me.” Castiel looked at the chair in the corner. He could move the clean sheets and blanket he had folded and placed there this morning, giving Dean the bed. Dean snatched his wrist before he could take a step closer to it.  
  
“You’re not sitting over there.”  
  
Castiel grinned. It filled his heart with hope that Dean wanted him close at any given opportunity.  
  
Dean switched his grip from Castiel’s wrist to his hip, pulling him in closer. “I want this to be something more too, Cas. I want to try this...you and me thing, again. It, uh, makes me nervous, I’m not gonna lie. Last time I just went all-in. Heart and soul.”  
  
A burst of guilt struck Castiel square in the chest.  
  
Dean squeezed his hip, getting his attention so their eyes met. “I’m just sayin’ I’m bein’ a little more careful this time.”  
  
“I understand,” Castiel said sadly. “And I just want you to know that I’m all in. Already. Heart, soul, mind, body, spirit. Whatever you’re willing to give me, Dean, just know I’m prepared to give back tenfold.” He bit his lip, worrying he would ruin the moment with his professions of love. But he couldn’t stop himself. “I’m sorry if that is too much, too fast. I just...I want you to know that I’m ready for anything you are.” He mustered a reassuring smile, Dean’s look of tinging worry, ebbing to another grin.  
  
“You’re serious about this,” Dean said.  
  
“Very,” Castiel countered.  
  
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes traveling the room around them. “I’m, uh, not quite as put together as my apartment might lead you to believe.”  
  
The only thing Dean’s apartment told him was that Dean was tidy, efficient, a workaholic, and most likely lonely. But if Dean considered it a sign of being ‘put together’, he was not going to argue. “You have always been better at relationships than I have, Dean. I have no doubt you will let me know when or if you are ready for...more.”  
  
Dean nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. He seemed to be considering a lot of things. Castiel waited, as he was prepared to do for the foreseeable future, to see what exactly Dean wanted from him in this moment.   
  
“My boss is on my ass to get a file from me. I brought it home on Friday and...” he looked at his dresser with concern, “and I just can’t give it to him.”  
  
Castiel sat on the side of the bed, not touching Dean, but closer than completely necessary. “Why do you not want to give it to him?”  
  
Dean sighed. “It’s a report I generated, putting the spotlight on our least productive farms. There are people’s lives and lands on that list that without Adler’s support, will probably fold. Some of them are pretty small. Others just had a bad year. Either way, I just can’t do it. I can’t be that guy in a suit that shuts down people’s lives.” He shook his head, looking terribly bothered by his situation. “I remember people like that coming to Bobby’s once. ‘The bank men’ Bobby called them. It only happened once, but Bobby was always struggling to meet quotas. The same damn quotas I make! How did I get here? How did I become the jackass in the suit?”   
  
Dean was staring at him with pleading green eyes. Castiel covered Dean’s hand with his own, squeezing it gently. “Someone gave you bad advice. Someone told you that you wouldn’t be worth anything unless you were operating just like this.” Castiel glanced around the bedroom again. “That someone is the REAL jackass, Dean. And I’m afraid that was me. It is what worries me most about your lifestyle. Not that you are a bad person. You are not. I worry that you were trying to prove something because of the things I said. And I was so wrong.”  
  
Dean shook his head, pulling his hand away from Castiel’s as he stood up, removing a file from his top dresser drawer. “You didn’t do this, Cas. I did this. Adler Agriculture, Incorporated did this. They squeeze the little farms dry, meanwhile, Zachariah Adler just bought his third vacation home in Antigua. He barely understands how a farm runs, let alone how he gets the numbers he does. He’s a money-grubbing asshole. And I’ve been trying to be like him!” Dean thrust the file into Castiel’s hands. “Why?! Why did I do this to myself?!”  
  
Castiel shook his head, knowing he did not have the answers. “You were just trying to be successful.”  
  
Dean nodded. “On the backs of hard-working farmers. It makes me sick.”  
  
Castiel opened the file, seeing the well written report that outlined the five least productive counties that Adler had customers in. He had singled out the least productive county, a difficult area to farm in North Dakota. The last page of the report listed seventeen sets of numbers and their contribution for the past year.  
  
“Have you ever been to these farms?” Castiel asked, assuming each long number in the column represented a farm.  
  
“No. Only the brokers visit when they’re bringing a farm on. And then the auditors visit twice a year.”  
  
Castiel nodded. “Why was Bobby never a part of this?”  
  
Dean frowned hard. “Because.”  
  
Castiel closed the file. “Because it is a bad business?”  
  
Dean stared at him for a few seconds before his face fell in dismay. “I always told myself Bobby’s place was too small and too well run to need support from a company like Adler.”  
  
Castiel could read between the lines. “You were protecting him.”  
  
Dean nodded. “I guess. I never thought of it that way. But...I suppose that’s exactly what I was doing.”  
  
“And now you want to protect these farms as well,” Castiel surmised.  
  
Dean nodded. “I bought another month. But if I don’t turn that report in, Adler will have someone else run it.”  
  
“So...let him,” Castiel grinned. “Bobby is part of a cooperative farming group. When Adler cuts them, we’ll invite them to our group. With Bobby’s permission, that is.”  
  
Dean blinked at him. “Seriously?”  
  
Castiel shrugged. “We can’t compete with a conglomeration like Adler, but the more partners in a co-op, the better for everyone.”  
  
A look of relief washed over Dean’s face. A level of burden that had been hanging over him like an invisible cloak suddenly lifted, letting shine a boyish grin, which took Castiel’s breath away.  
  
Castiel stood up from the bed. “I can call Bobby,” Castiel offered, reaching for his phone.  
  
Dean grabbed his wrist. “We can call him tomorrow. Better yet, I’m calling off sick and I think we should go see him.”  
  
Castiel grinned even harder at Dean’s excitement. “Okay!”  
  
Dean’s excitement shifted, his eyes alight with eagerness. He took the file, putting it on top of his dresser. “Thanks, Cas.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Castiel grinned.  
  
Dean glanced back at his bed. “And thank you for taking good care of me.”  
  
Their eyes met. He would do anything to help Dean. Anything.  
  
“Movie?” Dean asked, still smiling.  
  
“Yes!”  
  
Dean had already changed and showered before they had dinner. Both in sweats and t-shirts, they settled onto the bed side by side.  
  
Dean took his hand, lacing their fingers as he pointed the remote at the TV, scrolling through Netflix. “What do you want? Action, drama, comedy, romance, superhero, scary?”  
  
Castiel grinned, just really happy to be right where he was. “Whatever you want.”  
  
“Naw, don’t give me that. What type of movie are you in the mood for?”  
  
Castiel grinned wide. “Romance.”  
  
Dean gave him a side-eye with an amused grin. “You got a one-track mind.”  
  
If only Dean knew the random, wild images that surged through his mind at any given moment. He might not have a poker face, but at least he had managed to keep his libido in check. He turned his head, meeting Dean’s eyes. He hadn’t thought Dean would be staring at him and it caught his attention quite abruptly. Castiel licked his lips, trying not to breathe too hard.   
  
Dean’s eyes lowered before coming back up to meet his. Castiel watched with awe as Dean came up onto one elbow, leaned over and planted the mother of all kisses on him. Castiel caught him, then hugged him onto his chest in the warmest of embraces. Dean’s mouth parted, Castiel delving in as if he was breathing for the first time in ten years. Their tongues met in a dance that Castiel had only dreamed about. He could only chase the search Dean seemed to be leading, cradling him tighter with needy hands that squeezed and slid around Dean’s back. It was intense and thrilling in a way their many stolen kisses had been.  
  
Dean pulled up, kissing more chastely over and over, both of them smiling between them until Dean pressed down again, Castiel pressing his tongue forward for more. He was drunk on Dean. Swimming in a sea of endorphins.  
  
He could feel Dean’s fingers thread into his hair over and over, something no one else but Dean had ever done with such reverence. He had not remembered finding the hem of Dean’s shirt, but the feel of his hot skin so silky smooth in his hands drove him to a new level of desire. Dean pulled back again, staring down at him with such a charged look that Castiel could only stare back, not sure what move was expected next. Fearful of choosing the wrong one, he waited and watched.  
  
“Jesus, I missed you,” Dean said with a raw edge.  
  
Castiel licked his swollen lips. “So, so bad.” Dean dipped down for another volley of kisses that had Castiel’s hands at work again until they slowed to lingering exchanges, until they simply lay together, holding each other.  
  
Castiel loved the smell of the apple shampoo in his hair and the faint scent of leather. He loved the heat and weight of him cuddled to his chest. He hugged him just a bit tighter, kissing the top of Dean’s head. Oh, he dearly loved this man.   
  
  
********************************************  
  
  
Dean woke to the annoying sound of his alarm going off. He was immediately aware of the warm, solid chest under his cheek. His head lifted as he blinked sleepily, glaring at the ridiculously bright numbers on his alarm clock. He turned it off quickly so it didn’t wake the man in his bed.  
  
Dean turned, looking down at Cas. He was flat on his back, one arm flung out while the other still curled around Dean’s waist. The TV was still on, the soft glow of a screen saver weakly lighting the room.   
  
Dean scratched his head and yawned. They had kissed a lot last night. He let the thought sit there a moment as he watched Cas’ chest rise and fall steadily.  
  
It was 5:01am. His alarm had gone off so damn early because he would need to hit snooze until 5:18 before he berated himself out of bed, drank 8 ounces of water, peed, stretched, and ran 3 miles on his treadmill. He’d shower, shave, make a protein drink, iron a shirt, and check his blood pressure. He had to get up early so he could fit all that in before work. He had to fit all that in before work because he wouldn’t get home until well after 6:00, sometimes as late as 8:00pm.   
  
He did not give one single fuck about any of that today.  
  
His Fitbit could fuck off. His treadmill could eat shit. His protein packets could all go to hell.   
  
He had been in the rat race entirely too long.  
  
He wanted out.  
  
He turned, picking up his phone from the nightstand and texted that he would not be in to work today. He also emailed the electronic copy of the file he had been stressing about.  
  
He did not put his phone on silent. He turned it completely off.  
  
He turned back to Cas, curling back around him, fitting back where he had spent the entire night. It felt really fucking good. He grinned when Cas made little happy noises, hugging him tight as he turned and kissed his head. They had not watched any movies last night. They didn’t have any long talks or make any plans. They had made out like teenagers and fallen asleep in each other’s arms.   
  
Dean did not fall back asleep. Instead, he idly stroked the skin on Cas’ side, thinking about a million things. So many possibilities. So many wrong steps he had taken. New ideas formed in his mind. He found every tiny move and noise that Cas made to be as alluring as it had been ten years ago.  
  
Cas had said several times now that Dean had been right all those years ago. That boy that wanted to be a man had been the genius of the day.  
  
Too bad neither of them had listened.  
  
But that time was gone. What he had now was the chance to reclaim a missed opportunity.  
  
And not all the missed opportunities had to do with Cas. He wanted to see Bobby more often. His dad too. He wanted to be a part of the farm. He wanted joy and fun back in his life, not constant work for a company that killed the very spirit of who he originally wanted to be. He mourned the time he had missed and the mistakes he had made, but surrounded by Cas’ comforting heat, he just couldn’t be upset about it.   
  
At 8:27am, he slipped out of bed, Cas curling after his missing heat. Dean tucked him back in, heading for the coffee pot.  
  
He had shit to do. Fences to mend. Farms to save. And one very deserving Castiel Novak to bed.  
  
Sam sat up, groaning.  
  
Dean winced, knowing his brother had had an awful night on the stupid sofa. “Breakfast?”  
  
Sam got up, stretching with another groan and a yawn. “Yeah. That would be great. You feeling okay?”  
  
“I’m feelin’ great!” Dean pulled out a pan and the real eggs from real chickens that Cas had brought.  
  
“I gotta head back. I’m supposed to be on shift at noon.”  
  
“Get your notes done?”  
  
“Yeah. I’m all caught up. What did you two do?” Sam came to sit on one of the stools, scrubbing a hand through his hair.  
  
Dean grinned. “Well, we were gonna watch a movie, but...we didn’t.” He turned to Sam, handing him a mug of coffee.  
  
Sam turned the mug on the counter. “I really treated him like shit. I feel really bad about it.”  
  
“He seems to be fine.”  
  
Sam nodded. “He, uh, seems like he’s changed a lot.”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “He took good care of Bobby.”  
  
Sam rubbed his face, still waking up. “Yeah, he did. And the farm.”  
  
“We’re going to see Bobby today. I think I’m resigning from Adler. I’m gonna...” Dean laughed. “I have no fuckin’ clue what exactly I’m gonna do, but...it’s gotta be better than this.”  
  
Sam glanced around at the apartment. “Part of me wants to freak out about that. But...yeah. This apartment...makes me sad.”  
  
Dean nodded. “Yeah. I think I’m ready for...more.”  
  
“Just be careful. Cas might be alright, but ya can’t count on him, Dean. I don’t want you to...”  
  
Dean knew exactly what Sam meant. When he and Cas broke up when he was a teenager, it had devastated his world. He was a wreck. Love turned out to be something that hurt instead of the fairytale he first thought it was. He had come out at home and at school, he had endured bullying and a lot of self-doubt. He left home at a run, determined to find the life that every man should lead. And that had led him to a lot of let-down that he buried in work and other distractions. And even though he was just now digging his way out of that, he had grown and changed a lot too.  
  
“I will be careful, Sam. This time I’m sure I know what I’m doing. At least as far as Cas is concerned. As far as a job? Now that might be a problem. But Ill figure it out.”  
  
Sam nodded. “Me too. I knew things with Amelia were not perfect. We argued all the time. I don’t even know why I was so upset about it. I mean, she was kind of a bitch.”  
  
Dean fought a grin, completely agreeing.   
  
“Ya know, I called her after Christmas. Offered to let her see Riot. She didn’t even want to. She just bitched at me for taking some pillow and a bunch of her movies.” Sam shook his head. “When I hung up...all I felt was relieved to be out.”  
  
Dean’s eyebrows rose in some surprise.   
  
“Maybe you can help Bobby run the farm.”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
Sam took a long drink of coffee. “You gonna make me eggs or should I get a shower?”  
  
Dean smirked. “Drink your coffee. I’m workin’ on it.”  
  
Sam grinned into his next drink.  
  
  
***********************************************  
  
  
Castiel put his truck in park in front of Bobby’s house, watching as Dean pulled up beside him. The weather had made their drive difficult with a nasty mix of ice and snow. He was relieved to see Bobby’s lights on and no sign that he had been out trying to shovel or plow. The man handled winters quite well since the ramp to his plow was built, but he still worried about him shoveling his way to the barn by himself. There was no stopping the stubborn man though. If he wanted to do something, he found a way come hell or hypothermia. Castiel had arrived at Bobby’s more than once to find signs of Bobby falling with his wheelchair in the snow, finding him more than cross and grouchy back inside. One winter he had fallen while climbing into the plow, Castiel finding him cut, bleeding, and cold in the barn. He had threatened to sell every piece of machinery Bobby owned if he didn’t stop trying to climb the plow. Six stitches later, Bobby agreed and spent the end of that winter quieter than he had ever been. That was what prompted the ramp being built. Castiel did not want Bobby to stop. He just wanted him to be safe. He was capable of things most people in wheelchairs wouldn’t even dream of trying. He still hunted, chopped firewood, and did everything for himself on the bottom floor. They had learned to work together to keep Bobby as independent as possible.  
  
Dean grabbed his bag from the car, and they went to the front door, Castiel knocking loudly and calling “Hello!” As he went inside.  
  
Bobby wheeled into the hallway. “Hey kid!” His brows shot up again as he saw Dean. “Dean! What are you doin’ here?”  
  
“Hey, Bobby,” Dean grinned, passing Castiel to hug his uncle.   
  
Bobby’s eyes went back and forth between the pair. “Did somebody die? Or did you two get hitched?”  
  
Dean smirked down at him. “Told you I’d be around more often.”  
  
Bobby furrowed his brow, looking at Castiel. “I don’t see rings. Is Sam alright? John?”  
  
“Everyone is fine,” Castiel grinned. “Dean and I came to talk business.”  
  
“Oh,” Bobby sat up a bit. “Put a pot on, Dean.”  
  
Dean nodded, heading to the kitchen to get some coffee started.  
  
Bobby wheeled closer to Castiel, leaning forward to talk quietly. “He isn’t tryin’ ta buy you out, is he?”  
  
Castiel grinned. “I don’t think so. He definitely wants to be a part of farming this year though.”  
  
Bobby sat back. “I take it things went okay.”  
  
Castiel nodded, tossing his gloves on the bench. “Very well. Sam even came to check on him and we...got along much better.”  
  
Bobby’s shoulders relaxed. He grinned, looking just a shade cocky. “I knew you two would pull your heads outta yer asses eventually.”  
  
“Nice,” Castiel scoffed, pulling his coat off, hanging it on the hook that was his.  
  
“He moving here?” Bobby whispered, leaning forward again.  
  
Castiel leaned down, whispering back, “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him.”  
  
“You ask him!” Bobby whispered back a mite louder. “He’s your...whatever you two are!”  
  
“He’s your nephew!” Cas countered.  
  
“Chicken,” Bobby scoffed, his beard hiding a small grin.  
  
“You’re damn right,” Castiel quipped, not willing to push Dean any harder than safely necessary.  
  
“Idjit.” Bobby shook his head. “I did say ‘GRAND’ gesture.”  
  
Castiel rolled his eyes. “I did my best. He’s here, right?!” Cas shooed him toward the kitchen with a chuckle.  
  
Bobby sat back, side-eyeing him as he turned to head to the kitchen. Castiel chuckled at the man’s meddling. Who knew Bobby Singer was worse than the old bittys that pestered him in town as to why he wasn’t married yet?  
  
“Yer uncle Marv stopped by yesterday,” Bobby said, his voice back to normal.  
  
“He did?” Castiel was a little surprised to hear that.   
  
“Did you send everybody to check on me?” He asked tersely, wheeling up to the kitchen table.  
  
“I sent no one to check on you,” Castiel assured him.  
  
“Huh.”  
  
“Who else was here?” Dean asked.  
  
“Ellen. Jody. Donna. Hell, even Garth stopped in! It’s been like Grand Central Station around here.”  
  
“Well, it wasn’t me,” Castiel swore. “They must have just wanted to visit.”  
  
“Huh. Must be my winning personality,” Bobby deadpanned.  
  
Dean sat at the table with them, giving his uncle an adorable smile. “Everybody needs some Bobby-time.”  
  
“So,” Bobby sat back, studying Dean, “what’s this all about. You look like yer up ta somethin’.”  
  
“I’m always up to something,” Dean assured him. “But seriously...I wanted to talk to you about the farm.”  
  
“I’m not sellin’ it,” Bobby stated.  
  
“No!” Dean shook his head. “No. In fact, I have some thoughts on how to increase what you’re already producing.”  
  
Bobby narrowed his eyes. “I’m already planning spring crops by the road.”  
  
“Good,” Dean nodded. “Now what about the land you bought from the Ward’s?”  
  
Bobby rested his head on his fist. “You’ve asked about that before. Back when you were a kid.”  
  
“Yeah. There’s a lot of potential there.”  
  
Bobby stared down at his lap for a minute, thinking Dean’s suggestion through. “I gotta tell ya the same thing I told you then. I don’t have the time or manpower to start fields on that land. It’ll need -”  
  
“I know,” Dean interjected. “Well, what if I was willing to do it.”  
  
Bobby tilted his head. “From Kansas City?”  
  
Castiel watched the pair carefully. He might own half of Bobby’s farm. But it was still Bobby’s. He followed all his suggestions, rarely even questioning them. The very thought of Dean stepping in made his hopes skyrocket.  
  
Dean sat back, fidgeting with the salt shaker from the table. “I’m thinking about a major career change.”  
  
Bobby grinned but Castiel was afraid to.  
  
“I’ve been pretty unhappy at Adler for a while now. I’ve had my resignation letter sitting in my laptop at home since last summer.”  
  
“When all the cuts went through?” Bobby asked.  
  
“Yeah. They treat everyone like they’re disposable. Including their farms.”  
  
Bobby took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “You know you always have a place here. I always hoped you’d come back to it. You’re a natural at farming. Always have been. But that’s a pretty big change. City life, office job, changing ta farming in a small town like this.”  
  
Dean nodded. “It feels right, Bobby. It feels like where I should be.”  
  
Bobby grinned again. This time Castiel grinned right along with him. Dean caught it, grinning back.  
  
“If you wanna start crops on the Ward’s old land, you gotta big job ahead of you.”  
  
Dean nodded. “Bet it won’t feel like work half as much as my current job does.” He got up, fixing all of them mugs of coffee. “And this time I won’t be showing up empty handed. I have savings that can breathe some life into this place again.”  
  
Bobby looked thoughtful. “Well, maybe I’ll just sell ya Ward’s land.”  
  
Dean and Castiel exchanged a glance. The Ward’s had moved 18 years ago. Their children had grown and not wanted anything to do with their parents farm. Bobby had bought it, hoping to expand but never had. It was one of the things Castiel had tried to talk Bobby into selling a few years ago. So far, the land had been dead weight. But the taxes weren’t terrible, and Bobby had adamantly refused.  
  
“I’ll have to think about that,” Dean grinned, sliding a mug to Cas, handing him the container of half-n-half to go with it. He sat down, cupping his own mug between his hands in thought.  
  
Bobby took a sip of coffee before going on. “There’s 20 acres at least of old orchards there. Plus the land you’re wanting to put crops in. That’s at least 50 more acres. Plus the homestead. That’s another three acres. The house isn’t much, but it could get you started.”  
  
Dean stared down at his coffee. “Sounds pretty tempting.”  
  
“Good,” Bobby nodded. “I bought it, not just for the crop fields in the back, but thinkin’ you might want the house or the whole thing someday.”  
  
“And Mrs. Ward drove you nuts with her peach cobbler,” Dean laughed. “You didn’t want neighbors in there again.”  
  
Bobby laughed. “That damn woman! She was tryin’ ta get me shot by Mr. Ward! Always over here bringin’ me casseroles and cobblers.”  
  
Dean and Castiel grinned.  
  
“Sounds like you have to beat away the women on the regular,” Castiel teased.  
  
Bobby’s cheeks tinged a little pink.  
  
Dean and Castiel exchanged a quick grin, neither missing it.  
  
“So, Ellen?” Dean teased, pushing Bobby’s elbow.  
  
“Oh shush,” Bobby out-right blushed.  
  
“Jody?” Castiel added, leaning away from Bobby’s teasing swat.  
  
“Donna!” Dean winked.  
  
“Donna is dating a nice trooper from in town. Doug. Pretty sure they’re gonna get hitched,” Bobby clarified.  
  
“Ellen,” Dean nodded.  
  
Castiel shook his head. “Jody. She checks on him all the time.”  
  
“Would you both mind yer own business! You two worry about you two. That’ll keep you plenty busy!”  
  
  
  
*******************************************  
  
  
  
Dean hand delivered his resignation letter to Zachariah. It went as smoothly as he expected. There was bitching and an offer of a raise, both of which Dean smiled through and politely turned down.  
  
He also printed a list of over 40 small farms that Adler was cutting or would be cutting soon. Cas called it their ‘future co-op list’. Bobby was completely on board for reaching out to the other farms, making all the little farms stronger.  
  
Dean had worked out his thirty-day required notice with an air of relief. He put the suits on, but hated them out-right. He was just as kind as he wanted to be to the other staff outside his door and just as rude as he wanted to be with the staff upstairs.  
  
The cubes outside his door threw him a quick going-away party in his office. The day he walked out was one of the most freeing moments in his life. He had spent his last days trying to talk the upper echelon into better treatment of their employees and their clients. But no one was listening. And that was fine. Dean knew numbers. The company was slowly cutting itself off at the knees. Between their short-sighted decisions and Zachariah’s cut, the company was destined to fold in the next five years.  
  
He walked away, proud of the things he had done. Relieved to leave it in the past.  
  
He had entirely too much to look forward to. He had told Cas that if they handled their 5-6 weeks of a long-distance relationship well, then he was completely ready for more.  
  
Cas had passed with flying colors.  
  
And so had he.  
  
Today was a good day. A day he had looked forward to since he was nine years old, riding alongside Bobby in his truck. He remembered the first time he had decided what he wanted to do with his life.   
  
*********************************  
“I’m gonna live here,” he had stated with all the assuredness only a child has, as they rumbled along the back road toward Bobby’s northern fields.  
  
“You are?” Bobby laughed.  
  
“I’m gonna be a farmer like you, Uncle Bobby.”  
  
“You might wanna be a teacher or a race car driver,” Bobby said back.  
  
“Nope,” Dean had assured him, leaning on the open window ledge, wind blowing through his floppy reddish-brown hair. “Gonna move to Sioux Falls and be your helper.”  
  
“That sounds like a good plan, Dean. Yer a darn good helper. Best farmer I know, next ta **me.”  
***************************** 

Dean remembered the little exchange like it was yesterday. It had taken a long time. Too long. It had taken more unexpected turns than he ever could have guessed. But the day had finally come. He was moving to Sioux Falls.  
  
February was ending like a frigid bitch, but Dean didn’t feel a bit of it as he put his car in park in front of Bobby’s house. He got out of the car as Bobby came to the front door and Cas came to the door of the barn, one on either side of him.  
  
“I’M HOME!” Dean bellowed, wanting even the sleeping bees up on the hills to hear him.  
  
“Bout damn time!” Bobby yelled, laughing.  
  
Cas ran from the barn, hugging Dean so hard he lifted off his feet as they turned in a circle.  
  
“You’re here!” Cas exclaimed.  
  
“I’m here!” Dean laughed, kissing him.  
  
They hugged tight, sleet slipping between the layers of coats and hats.  
  
“We did it, Cas!” Dean whispered. Their agreement to not see each other during Dean’s last month of work was a test they both felt they needed to pass to put the past behind them.  
  
Cas rained kisses on his cheeks and mouth. “We did! I knew we would!”  
  
They both blinked hard as the sleet pricked their skin, snowflakes mixing in to flurry around their faces.  
  
“I love you!” Cas said, his eyes so bright in the stark light that bounced off all the white, snow-covered world around them.   
  
“I love you too,” Dean grinned back, loving every line on Castiel’s face. Every bit of him. His messy hair, his blue eyes, his ready mouth, his strong arms, his heart of gold, his fine ass, and his hard-working legs. Every bit of him.  
  
“Get a room!” Bobby yelled with a chuckle, going inside.  
  
“You still glad to be here?” Cas asked, studying him.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean grinned back. “I’m ready for this. And you.”  
  
Castiel relaxed in his hands, his smile softening to a warm glow. “You are?”  
  
Dean hugged Cas to him, kissing him deep enough to convey all the love he felt. The permanence of where he now stood.   
  
“Dean,” Cas chuckled, pulling back. “Let’s take this inside.”  
  
“Where I really want to take it is your place.”  
  
Cas grinned again, his eyes crinkling adorably at the sides. “To meet Bert and Ernie?”  
  
“Yeah, that too.” Dean kissed his cheek, tugging him toward Bobby’s door.  
  



	8. Love Growin’ Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our last sip of Strawberry Wine. It’s the bottom of the glass where all the sweet, juicy tidbits are!

Chapter 8: Love Growin’ Wild  
  
  
July 18, 2020  
  
  
Dean watched with amusement as Bert pounced on Ernie, the chunkier cat rolling over good-naturedly to paw back at him. They had adjusted from apartment cats to farm cats with surprising ease. It was raining hard and had been all night, making the cats stay on the porch to play.  
  
“Dean!”  
  
Dean left the cats playing on the front porch to go into the house to see what Cas needed. They had been living in the house Dean now owned for two months now. It was a square farmhouse that had required a ton of work inside and out. There was still a lot to do, be neither he nor Cas wanted to live in his small apartment any longer than necessary. “Where are you?” Dean called.  
  
“The bathroom!”  
  
Dean went up the steep steps and into the bathroom, where Cas stood next to the tub, naked.  
  
Dean grinned wide. “Whatcha need?” He stepped into the bathroom, gripping Cas’ soft shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze.  
  
Cas chuckled low, kissing him chastely. “For once, that isn’t what I wanted.”  
  
Dean let him go, still grinning.  
  
“I got a shower and I keep finding these white flakes on me.”  
  
Dean looked over Cas’ muscular shoulders, seeing a sprinkling of white specs sticking to his skin. He blinked as a larger flake landed on his out-stretched arm. “What the hell?” He murmured.  
  
“There was some in the tub too.”  
  
Dean looked into the claw foot tub, noticing flakes on the floor as well.  
  
“Uh oh.” He looked up to the ceiling, seeing a water mark that had not been there before and a flake of drywall flutter down like a snowflake.  
  
Cas followed his gaze. “Oh no.”  
  
Dean sighed. “It’s been raining for two days. It’s only drizzling now, but -”  
  
A moan and a splitting crack was all the warning they got before both of them were doused in water and drywall.  
  
“Holy shit!” Dean gasped, both men darting away from the deluge.  
  
“Oh, that makes sense now,” Cas said, wiping off his face and brushing larger chunks of drywall off of himself.   
  
“That fucking sucks,” Dean said, swiping a hand over his face and ruffling through his hair.  
  
They both stared up at the ceiling, a hole the size of a beach ball gaped into the leaking underside of the roof. They both sighed, their eyes dropping to the mess in the bathroom.  
  
“I’ll get the bucket and mop,” Dean said flatly.  
  
“I’m just gonna, shower off,” Cas grinned, stepping around the broken hunks of drywall, getting back in the tub with a chuckle.   
  
Dean had to grin at Cas’ amusement. Nothing much got him down. Drafty cold nights, leaks, the power going out, none of it perturbed him. He had said it was because he’d rather be standing in ruins with Dean than living in a palace alone. Dean shook his head at how freakin’ true that really was. He’d rather be here on their worst night than in his former posh apartment. Bobby said love made them both blind, but Dean felt like he’d never seen clearer before. The year 2020 had certainly brought him clear vision. He was no longer on blood pressure meds or cholesterol medication. He was healthier and happier than he had ever been. And the treadmill was left behind to whatever poor sucker thought they were reaching success by taking over his apartment.  
  
This was the good life. Even when he was repairing a hole in his roof.  
  
  
******************************************  
  
  
For the first time in ten years, Castiel smelled strawberries without a single pang of guilt. He sat another basket of the freshly picked berries on Bobby’s porch.  
  
“I’ll start hullin’ ‘em,” Bobby said, pulling a bushel onto his lap. “You boys go clean the crocks.”  
  
Castiel exchanged a grin with Dean. “Will do,” Castiel said easily. They rounded the house to the cellar doors without a word. Castiel had plenty to say, but nothing within earshot of Bobby. He wrenched the door open, holding a hand out to let Dean inside.  
  
Dean smirked as he trotted down the narrow steps. He had been in the cellar this summer to get supplies a time or two, but it still seemed new to him as he looked around at everything, tugging the string to the light to turn the dim entry light on.  
  
Castiel came halfway down the steps, pulling the door closed behind him. He came down the rest of the steps, the room lighting up as Dean found the old light switches.   
  
He watched as Dean turned slowly around the room, taking a deep breath of the earthy, cool air. He leaned against the table that held twenty crocks, loving the looks that crossed Dean’s face. His straight hips and bowed legs, the worn seat of his pants that hugged his ass just right. And the way his eyes roamed the room, his cheeks blushing pink.  
  
At last, their eyes met. “Hey,” Dean grinned.  
  
“Hey,” Castiel bantered back, an element of teasing already in both their voices.   
  
“I like this room.” Dean backed up, leaning against the sink. Castiel followed him, already running his eyes up and down his body.  
  
“Got my first kiss here,” Dean quipped.  
  
Castiel grinned. While Dean had a few kisses in his experience before their first kiss here, he knew by the awkward way Dean had moved, that he hadn’t had many kisses before their fateful moment. And certainly had never kissed like Castiel kissed him. The memory gave him a cocky grin as he stepped into Dean’s space, putting his hands on the edge of the huge sink, Dean’s hips captured between them. “You were flirting with me.”  
  
“I was,” Dean whispered back, watching his mouth expectantly. Castiel leaned forward, kissing him lightly, nipping playfully at his lips.  
  
“I used to love coming down here to stir the pots,” Castiel admitted. “And the way you’d fight a smile off your face in front of Bobby.” He ran his hands through Dean’s hair, kissing him again.  
  
“Mmmm me too,” Dean said, squeezing Castiel’s hips, pulling him snug against him. “I learned a lot of dirty shit down here.”   
  
“You were such an eager learner,” Castiel cooed, gripping Dean’s chin to kiss him again.  
  
“Wanna teach me somethin’ right now?” Dean asked, grinning as his hands slid around to tug at the button of his jeans.  
  
“How about I just see what you know. A little cumulative review.”  
  
“Mmm,” Dean grinned. “Gladly, Professor Novak.”   
  
Castiel got the same thrill shooting through his chest that he got when they were at home doing this very same thing, but a repeat performance of their younger, naughtier days added to his level of desire. He watched as Dean dropped to his knees, both of them knowing he would bear dirt stained knees when they were done. Castiel groaned in anticipation, combing both hands through Dean’s hair as he opened his zipper and pushed his jeans and boxers down around his knees. His head tipped back in pure satisfaction as Dean’s mouth smoothly swallowed him whole, his cock nudging back Dean’s throat.  
  
Eyes still shut and wholly satisfied, Castiel grinned. “I remember when this used to make you gag.”  
  
Dean rumbled his retort, the vibration making Castiel groan again and his knees feel weak. His mouth parted in desire as Dean began sucking him over and over with a slow, strong rhythm.  
  
“You have learned so much,” Castiel babbled, his hands lightly riding along on Dean’s head. “Such a good, good student.”  
  
Dean pulled off, gripping Castiel around the thighs as he licked long strokes from his balls to the head of his dick, circling and looking up at him as his cock slid along his face.  
  
Castiel, watching him raptly now, blew out a breath as his hips rocked forward gently. “What do you want, Dean?”  
  
Dean moaned as he engulfed his cock again and Castiel’s lust multiplied at the sight of him on his knees devouring him so beautifully.  
  
He petted a hand through his hair, groaning again. “Do you want me inside you? Do you want to touch yourself while you suck me down? Or...” he paused to groan again at Dean’s efficient, sweeping tongue, “do you want me on my knees when I’m finished coming down your throat?”  
  
Dean groaned loud, deep-throating him as his hands slid up to knead Castiel’s cheeks.  
  
Castiel watched in awe as Dean slid back and deep, deep down again. He always had to pull answers from Dean. He had always been that way, ready to give, give, give, and terrible at telling him what he wanted. But Castiel had ways of remedying this as well. He tisked, gripping Dean’s hair as he pulled him off of his cock. “You gotta answer me, love.”  
  
Dean grinned, licked his lips, and wiped drool from his chin. “Sorry. My mouth was full.”  
  
Castiel stroked his own cock slowly, knowing it made Dean jealous to have it back in his mouth. The man loved giving blow jobs. He slid the head of his penis along Dean’s bottom lip, grinning when his tongue peeked out to lick it. “You have to tell me what you want.”  
  
Dean looked up at him, weighing his choices quickly. His eyes darted around the cellar one time, followed by a grin. “Inside me.”  
  
Castiel grinned. He wanted nothing more than to fuck Dean until he was high on endorphins. He fed his cock back into Dean’s mouth, combing his fingers loving through Dean’s hair again.  
  
“Open your pants,” Castiel grinned. Dean looked up at him again, getting back to a slow rhythm as his hands slid away from Castiel’s ass and legs to open his own jeans, shoving them and his boxers down around his thighs. “Up on your feet,” he grinned, tugging softly at Dean’s hair.  
  
Dean gave several more long sucking strokes to his cock before pulling off and getting to his feet. Castiel took his hand, turning him to lean over the counter where they should be scrubbing crocks. Dean laid his chest on the counter, arms resting out beside him with a huge grin. “Why do I love being fucked in this cellar?”  
  
“Because it’s our little hide-away,” Castiel grinned, pushing Dean’s jeans down around his ankles and spreading his cheeks to slide two fingers inside and work him open as he watched his heavy cock swing toward the floor. “You’re so good at sneaking off with me.”  
  
“Mmmm,” Dean groaned, his eyes slipping shut in ecstasy as he began rocking against the push of Castiel’s fingers.  
  
“So perfect,” Castiel marveled, spreading him open with one hand while the other rubbed his ass until he circled around to stroke Dean’s neglected cock.  
  
“Feels so good,” Dean murmured. “Harder, Cas.”  
  
“You’ll get it plenty hard in a minute,” Castiel grinned. He poured lube onto his fingers, moving faster as Dean panted and fucked back onto him.  
  
“I’m ready,” Dean whined, his hands starting to search the counter for a place to grip it. “Stuff that big cock in me, Cas!”  
  
Castiel rumbled a predatory laugh. Dean was magnificent whether they were in his backseat, their bed, their house, the barn, by the river, or in their little hide-away. But something about the earthen smell and the memories of all they had gotten away with down here, spurred Castiel into overdrive. He stretched Dean open as much as he needed to, his pushy lover’s pleas be damned. And only when he deemed Dean ready did he slide his fingers out.  
  
Dean wilted against the counter, turning to look at him with so much want that Castiel’s chest clenched. They could never have each other enough.  
  
Castiel pulled him to stand, shoving one of his boots off so Dean had one free leg. As he did this, Dean hugged him, kissing along his neck, driving him wild.  
  
He backed Dean around the edge of the counter until his back was against the stone cellar wall, kissing him as deeply as he could while he hoisted his free leg up and angled himself to slide inside.  
  
Dean moaned around the intrusion and the kiss, angling his hips out and open, bracing one hand on the counter. Castiel groaned back, just as fucking needy now as Dean, as he hoisted his other leg around his hips, his cock sliding deep inside.  
  
Dean gasped, his head and upper back supported by the wall, one hand still counter balancing them on the counter, and Castiel braced Dean firmly and began fucking him just as hard as he knew he wanted.  
  
They both panted and moaned, the only other sound the slap, slap, slap of their skin.  
  
Dean pressed against him just right to give Castiel the range his hips needed to fuck up into him hard. They both watched each other, mouths open and eyes eating up everything they saw.  
  
“So good!” Dean gasped.  
  
“There?” Castiel asked, pretty sure by the utter gasps Dean was releasing that he was nailing his prostate.  
  
“Yeah! Yeah! Fuck! Nghhhhfuck!” Dean’s eyes slid shut as his head pressed back again, taking every bit of cock Castiel could slam into him.  
  
Castiel would later wonder how the hell he had held Dean so long and fucked so hard and fast, but for the blurry, climaxing now, he just pumped with all his might, watching his love come undone, fall apart, and cry out as he came. Castiel wished he could capture Dean’s cock in his mouth and drink down every bit of cum surging from him, but he was locked into this stance, fucking right through Dean’s orgasm until he nearly climbed the walls going over the edge himself.  
  
He rocked up into Dean, pumping the last surges of climax until one of Dean’s legs dropped to the floor, supporting them both. He leaned forward, kissing Dean sloppily as he eased his other leg back to the floor. Without a word, he went down on his knees to clean all the cum that he couldn’t get to before, Dean hissing and gasping in over-sensitized pleasure as he went about his work.  
  
Slowly, he got back to his feet, kissing Dean again. “I love you.”  
  
“Love you too,” Dean whispered, a dreamy grin on his face.  
  
“You officially get an A+, 125%, by the way.”  
  
Dean chuckled. “I studied hard.”  
  
Castiel leaned into him, feeling more fantastic than he ever as Dean wrapped his arms around him, peppering sweet kisses along his brow.  
  
They took as long as they wished, finally getting all their clothes back on. Castiel grinned and chuckled as Dean dusted off his dirty knees the best he could, light brown patches still staining the denim.  
  
“Shut up,” Dean laughed.  
  
“I didn’t say anything,” Castiel chuckled louder, looking down at his own button as he closed it.  
  
Leaning against the sink, looking thoroughly exhausted in a good way, Dean blew out a breath. “Guess we better wash some crocks.”  
  
Castiel grinned, renewed with energy. “We’ll get through them quickly.”  
  
He got the first crock, bear-hugging it to carry over to the counter Dean had previously been leaning over, sliding it into place as Dean prepped them both soapy wash cloths.  
  
He quickly got himself one, sitting it next to Dean’s, taking a cloth with a grin.  
  
Smiling just as happily, Dean kissed him before letting the cloth go. They both went to work, wiping down the brown crocks. He waited anxiously, keeping his eyes on his own crock until Dean began the inside of his, stopping to pick out the small, shiny item from the bottom.  
  
“What the heck? There’s a ring in here,” Dean mumbled, standing up straight with the ring caught in his fingertips.  
  
Castiel licked his lips. “Yes...I may have put that in there...for you.”  
  
Dean’s questioning look softened into a whimsical smile. “What?”  
  
Castiel cleared his throat, licking his lips. “Dean, I am happier than I have ever been. And the only thing that would make me happier would be to marry you. I...I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love someone and...and...”  
  
Dean was staring at him with a grin so endearing it choked Castiel’s words. “Cas...I...”  
  
Castiel dropped to one knee, taking Dean’s hands in his. “Dean, will you marry me?”  
  
Dean guffawed and stared from him to the ring and back. “Yeah, Cas! Yes!”  
  
Castiel shot up, hugging him, kissing him, and lifting him to spin them in a circle as they both laughed. Sitting him on his feet, Castiel took the ring in his shaking hands, sliding it on his finger.  
  
Dean stared at it in awe, then kissed him again. “I had no idea! I was NOT expecting that!”  
  
Castiel chuckled, his heart soaring at the look of elation on Dean’s face. They kissed again and completely forgot about the crocks as Dean pulled him up the steps to show the ring to Bobby.  
  
“Does he know?” Dean asked, rounding the house.  
  
“He knew I was planning on asking. I talked to him and your dad before doing this.”  
  
“My dad?”  
  
“Yes! Last weekend when he was here!”  
  
Dean kissed him again, laughing, “You sneaky dog!”  
  
They went up the ramp to the porch, hand in hand, finding Bobby sitting there still hulling strawberries. “You two been in the wine?” Bobby asked, seeing easily how happy they were.  
  
“Not quite,” Dean grinned, holding up their hands. “But apparently I’m getting into marriage!”  
  
Bobby lit up. “Thought you were gonna wait until yer birthday!” Bobby laughed.  
  
“I couldn’t wait,” Castiel admitted.  
  
“He just bought the dang thing a few days ago!” Bobby laughed.  
  
“We waited long enough,” Dean grinned, kissing Castiel again. “We’re done waiting for anything.”  
  


********************************************

Timestamp

********************************  


Dean and Castiel got married in October 2020. They had a boisterous reception at the Roadhouse where the strawberry wine from 2009 flowed like sweet summer goodness. Castiel counted himself lucky to have a husband who got along so well with his friends that it was impossible to tell who Charlie adored more, him or Dean. Kevin and Channing accepted him effortlessly and Mrs. Tran was elated that her son was engaged and Dean was now married. She set her sights completely on Charlie and had begun questioning Bobby on his wife potential as well. And to Castiel’s relief, Dean even got a kick out of his pesky Uncle Marv, whose tickets they were using to take a long honeymoon to, per Dean, ‘somewhere beachy where we will wear matching tropical shirts!’

Dean considered himself lucky to have a husband who got along so well with his family. Bobby loved ‘the kid’ as if Cas had always been one of his own. He had convinced John to move to Sioux Falls to help Bobby and to be closer to his sons. Sam liked working with the town vet, Dr. Hawkins, so much that the two were talking about going into practice together. Sam also had a serious crush going with a girl from town named Eileen. They all adored her, all of them taking sign language classes to improve communicating with her. 

As a wedding gift, Castiel gave Dean the wishing box, explaining the tale as his uncle Marv, Bobby, John, and Sam all listened. Dean smiled down at it. “What did you wish for?” He asked quietly.

Castiel shook his head. As if there could be anything else he would wish for! “I wished for you!”

“Damn,” Dean grinned, picking up the little pencil. Castiel was surprised to see Dean already writing something on the tiny scroll.

Dean turned it two clicks, shook it gently and kissed him.

“What did you wish for?”

“I wish for this,” Dean said, pointing out around them at their friends and family. “I already have everything. My goal is to keep it.”

Castiel, so touched by Dean’s capacity for love, wished he too could keep this forever.

Dean pushed the box back into the packaging and handed it to Sam. 

Sam’s eyes went wide. “Dean! This thing is so cool!”

“Use it wisely,” Marv warned. “It’s pretty powerful!”

Dean clapped his brother on the back, the pair sharing a grin. Castiel hoped Sam too would find something he wished for, though he too seemed pretty happy with how his life was turning out.

Life was so good. It was as ripe and sweet as strawberry wine.

The End!

<3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!  
> Thank you for EVERY kudo!  
> Thank you for EVERY comment!
> 
> This has been a fun, sad, sweet little romp! If you aren’t reading Handle With Grace, come join us! I’m posting 2-3 times a week on that one :)  
> Have a wonderful day, week, and may 2020 bring you clear vision, happy hearts, cozy nights, friends, family, and more good reads!  
> Love you guys! <3


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